She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. “You see,” said Ann Veronica, with the air of one who shares a difficulty, “I’ve promised to go. "Suppose we go and have tea? I'd like to take you to a teahouse I know, but we'll go to the Victoria instead. I’d take it— forgive me if I seem a little urgent—as a sort of proof of friendliness. “Must be hard to find a decent violin teacher these days. You're on the way to big things. So she went to Ramage and came to the point almost at once. How fortunate that she recognises the resemblance. Perhaps, after all, the others were right. Either it was an unfortunate recovery of a trail, or he had followed her from Mayfair.
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