He would raise her up once again, ply her with silks and jewels again, all of the accoutrements of the new generation: the cars, the toys, the restaurants, and the prestige. You don’t know what you ask nor what you say. Ann Veronica blushed. He passed, and came loitering back and stood beside her, silently looking into her face. He removed his cockaded hat, putting it down between them as he sat at the other end, placing himself at an angle and, crossing his legs, leaned back at his ease, his eyes fixed on her face. “I want,” he said, with a white hand outstretched, “to take you out to tea.
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