He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. Never had her father explained. Miss Stanley walked round the garden thinking, and presently house and garden reverberated to Ann Veronica’s slamming of the front door. She and Courtlaw drove homewards together. At the cost of quite a number of torn drafts she succeeded in evolving this: “DEAR MR. ’ ‘How can you possibly enquire for her?’ demanded Hilary acidly. The comtesse always felt Madame Valade to be not of her class, of course.
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