She was frightfully hungry. There was little more here than a sideboard, a chest for the vestments, and a simple wooden chair. “Well——” She stopped short. ” “Auntie?” asked Constance, who was conversant with Ann Veronica’s affairs. “Annabel! God in Heaven, it is Annabel!” She did not speak. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. “Grail!” said Ann Veronica, and then: “Oh, yes—of course! Anything but a holy one, I’m afraid.
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