” The audience clapped when cued by Brown, not sure of what to do. A remittance man. ’ There was a silence. Ann Veronica sat back in an attitude of inattention, her eyes on a distant game of cricket, her mind perplexed and busy. I don’t idealize you. Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. For her mother to betray her seemed inevitable, but the betrayal seemed worse than her fate. I never let her read stories, or have pets, dolls. ” “And what do you think I ought to do?” “Exactly!” He lifted a paper-weight and dabbed it gently down again.
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