As concertmaster, it was Lucy’s duty to seat the orchestra as well as tune them. Why don’t I just go and get the key from Pottiswick?’ Alderley flicked a glance back at him over his shoulder. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. Great vistas of history opened, and she and her aunt were near reverting to the primitive and passionate and entirely indecorous arboreal—were swinging from branches by the arms, and really going on quite dreadfully—when their arrival at the Palsworthys’ happily checked this play of fancy, and brought Ann Veronica back to the exigencies of the wrappered life again. She was new, unlike any other woman he had met in all his wide travel. In your heart you know very well that this is absurd.
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