He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him. There was first the Avenue, which ran in a consciously elegant curve from the railway station into an undeveloped wilderness of agriculture, with big, yellow brick villas on either side, and then there was the pavement, the little clump of shops about the postoffice, and under the railway arch was a congestion of workmen’s dwellings. Seeing Jack at liberty, he instantly seized him, and a struggle commenced. They began the evening like usual, driving down highways and byways. He was in trouble and she could not help him; that was the ache in her heart. His hair was thick and brown and his skin was fair. Ann Veronica sat back in an attitude of inattention, her eyes on a distant game of cricket, her mind perplexed and busy. “Annabel,” she said, “I have never asked you for your confidence.
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