. . “One doesn’t wait,” said Ann Veronica. But that title he would not endure. CHAPTER VII The astonishing collapse of Spurlock created a tableau of short duration. “I don’t love him,” said Ann Veronica, getting a gleam. He had hurt her. To-morrow they will all be contradicted. Melusine soon found herself seated at a table, with a dirty piece of paper in front of her, and a badly mended pen between her fingers. He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere. ‘Went to the dogs, did Jarvis, after Mary died. The hardest bout I ever had was with a woman—Sally Wells, who was afterwards lagged for shoplifting. All that confidence, born of irony, disappeared; and fear laid hold of him. Those I don’t mind, though, the games. The ambitions of his life, and they were many, seemed to lie far away, broken up dreams in some outside world where the way was rough and the sky always grey.
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