She sat very still, and his eyes rested on that ornament for a moment, and then travelled slowly to her wrist and the soft lines of her forearm. The women, Ann Veronica thought, were not quite so interesting as the men. He went in there, and he was in there for a good half hour. He took her hand in his, raising it closer, and gently touched the maltreated skin. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. ‘You don’t favour her, bar the black hair. By rights I ought to have arrested her days ago. His face will be all I need.
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