“I suppose I fell in love with her, Ann Veronica. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane. You call it a lot of nicknames—“Babs” and “Bibs” and “Viddles” and “Vee”; you whack at it playfully, and it whacks you back. “We’ll go together. Is all your house on the same scale of magnificence as this, Annabel?” she asked, looking round. She was glad when he went on: “I want to be your city of refuge from every sort of bother. " Jack would not hazard a glance at Winifred; but, quitting the church, got into an adjoining meadow, and watched the party slowly ascending the road leading to Dollis Hill. “Mike’s an idiot and we both know it, Lucy! I can’t stand him!” “Did you two have a fight? Are you breaking up?” Lucy said worriedly. There was no reason why she shouldn’t be his restrained and dignified friend. Sudden indignation boiled up in him. Don’t touch the handle, Annabel! Curse the thing, you’ve jammed it now. Pretend to weep both of you as loudly as you can. “It isn’t a joke,” she said.
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