The summer arrived, speeding the Plague and with it the famine in the streets. She was aware of people—her aunt, her father, her fellow-students, friends, and neighbors— moving about outside this glowing secret, very much as an actor is aware of the dim audience beyond the barrier of the footlights. Nevertheless, Sir John had the look of a man who was enjoying himself. She was chic, distinguished, unusual. There, that sounds frightfully involved, doesn’t it, but perhaps you can make out what I mean. But Sheppard took no notice of the exclamation. He recoiled from the sting. “Look here, Ann Veronica,” he began.
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