“Suppose you call me by my proper name,” she said quietly. Wood fancied he heard the exulting laugh of Jonathan Wild. She felt her heartbeat accelerate until it was pounding her chest. Ann Veronica was one of the few young people—and one must have young people just as one must have flowers—one could ask to a little gathering without the risk of a painful discord. Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. . ‘It is in truth you?’ ‘Of course it is I.
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