“Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed. His anger gave way to grim humour and he thrust towards them, leaning heavily on his cane. It would put the whole adventure on a broader and better footing; it seemed, indeed, almost the only possible way in which she might emerge from her rebellion with anything like success. ‘But―but how can he know?’ His soldier’s instinct overtook Gerald and he dropped all his insouciance in a bang, becoming brisk. You have been her guardian angel. The pavement had been hastily picked up, and heaped across the end of the street, upon which planks, barrels, and other barricades, were laid. His name was Peter. She came into the room. And as he walked by her side they began a wrangle that was none the less pleasant to Ann Veronica because it served to banish a disagreeable preoccupation.
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