Then she sat watching the play, sometimes offering a helpful suggestion, sometimes letting her attention wander to the smoothly shining arms she had folded across her knees just below the edge of the table. "Old Morgan the trader," she explained, "used to save me Tit-Bits. A brief feeling of empathy with Pottiswick passed through him. Her aunt returned before the packing was done, and Ann Veronica lunched with an uneasy sense of bag and hold-all packed up-stairs and inadequately hidden from chance intruders by the valance of the bed. The moment she entered the room and he rose, she felt that she was immediately consigned to the circle of strangers; and it emptied her heart of its joy and filled it with diffidence. ‘That is good,’ she said with satisfaction, ‘for I was compelled on Saturday to abandon the chase. There is light enough from the sun,’ she said, relieved.
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