Why else?’ Gerald stared at her blankly. An ancient smile lay on his lips. Her words, as she said them, seemed to her to mean nothing, and there was so much that struggled for expression. This niggardliness compelled him to cross and recross streets. She was not quite clear how she should find it, but she felt she would. “You would appear to be trying to destroy a comradeship which has been very, very pleasant. The Supper at Mr. “NO!” she said, at last, with something in her voice that reminded Ann Veronica of a sprung tennis-racket. Passing the old rectory, and still older church, with its reverend screen of trees, and slowly ascending a hill side, from whence he obtained enchanting peeps of the spire and college of Harrow, he reached the cluster of well-built houses which constitute the village of Neasdon.
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