When Jack was brought in, he cast a rapid glance around him, and perceiving Thames in the custody of Jonathan, instantly divined how matters stood. He did not care whether the stories were accepted or not. She plucked at the knots of her racket and heard him to the end, then spoke in a restrained undertone. Easy enough. She had turned round sideways, so as to look down into the fire. They were wed in Florence, in the grandest cathedral she had ever seen, the Santa Maria del Fiore. “You silly wimmin,” he said over and over again throughout the hearing, plucking at his blotting-pad with busy hands. Her fingers were bursting through her gloves, as if to get at once into touch with Ann Veronica. The clerk at the Raffles Hotel had accorded her but scant interest. She put back her hood in a determined way.
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