‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. She sensed he might try and wane on her doorstep. You have taken upon your shoulders the burden of her misdeeds. Ann Veronica was apologetic to the bottom of her soul. The idea of anything criminal never entered her thoughts. He grabbed her hair viciously and whispered loudly into her tear-streaked face. Fortescue rambled round the garden with soft, propitiatory steps, the Corinthian nose upraised and his hands behind his back, pausing to look long and hard at the fruit-trees against the wall. “You should quit. How she learned of her heritage I do not know, but you need not imagine that it is greed that drives her.
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