But, alas! she was beautiful—and beauty is a crime not to be forgiven by a jealous woman. The crowd dispersed in different directions, and most fortunately a heavy shower coming on, put them altogether to flight. Well, come back in half an hour. They vanished through the doorway. “And what was that dreadful confession you had to make?” he was saying. “I’m just off, aunt,” said Ann Veronica. He walked through the misty September night to his rooms. She studied her form in the full length mirror, assessed 69 her body as one would that of a prize calf, trying to see it through his eyes, through the eyes of desire. But these fears, like those he had recently experienced, speedily vanished, and he prepared to return to the roof, congratulating himself that owing to the opportune falling of the bricks, he had in all probability escaped serious injury. The very old lady in the antimacassar touched Ann Veronica’s arm suddenly, and said, in a deep, arch voice: “Talking of love again; spring again, love again. Ralph.
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