And then she would find work. The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all. Her mother had prepared her for everything. "But bring your glim this way. Even given that he was hopelessly enamoured of the wench, a fact which was obvious to the meanest intelligence. I need scarcely ask whether you've executed your appointed task, my dear? You're never behindhand. A male voice, vibrant with terror, yelled out hoarsely. He tore it down just as the Wastrel rose, wavering slightly. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers. Her hands wove through his black hair, luxuriating in its thickness. “The most important is that I have a new admirer. Lucy could see the resemblance of Martin to both of his parents as plain as day. You don't notice the heat; but it is always there, pressing down.
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