" "There you're wrong, Mr. . ” “It astonishes me that I don’t,” said Manning, in a tone of intense selfenjoyment. ‘She’s little more than a schoolgirl, just out. They mean something. The road from Surbiton and Epsom ran under the arch, and, like a bright fungoid growth in the ditch, there was now appearing a sort of fourth estate of little redand-white rough-cast villas, with meretricious gables and very brassy windowblinds. He rang the doorbell, even though she had already cracked the door for him. She traced him by his scent. She swallowed hard. ” “Personally,” he went on, “I must confess to a great disappointment. Years ago I marked out an intinerary for myself; but the trip never materialized. Heaven knows what dim and tawdry conceptions of passion and desire were in that blond cranium, what romance-begotten dreams of intrigue and adventure! but they sufficed, when presently Ann Veronica went out into the darkling street again, to inspire a flitting, dogged pursuit, idiotic, exasperating, indecent.
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