He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. “Yes,” said Ann Veronica, “yes,” to his explanation, and saw across the lawn Lady Palsworthy talking to her aunt, and both of them staring frankly across at her and Mr. Lucy wore it every day from then on. Lucy changed into her Goodwill jeans and sweatshirt, plastering her hair down with an elastic band and securing it under a tight hood. Gerald exchanged a puzzled glance with his friend. “So Cheveney was her friend, you think, eh?” he remarked. Of course she had taken the boy as her lover, acting as his muse. Going involved two things that all Ann Veronica’s tact had been ineffectual to conceal from her aunt and father.
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