It was, Ann Veronica felt, as a sip or so of that remarkable blend warmed her blood, just the sort of thing that her aunt would not approve, to be lunching thus, tete-a-tete with a man; and yet at the same time it was a perfectly innocent as well as agreeable proceeding. Had it not been for the Plague, she might have had her own babies. “How I am to earn enough sous for my dinner to-morrow—or failing that, what I can sell. “Let go!” she gasped at him, a blaze of anger. There was a little pain, but it wasn’t anything.
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