Anna was still holding her cigarette between her fingers. “A most wonderful likeness, too. ‘You don’t even know what it means, do you?’ Melusine frowned. Ann Veronica considered her answer. She began to exercise those lures which were bred in her bone—the bones of all women. It was a duel, you understand, and that is not permitted. It was a copy of the pencil sketch taken of him nine years ago by Winifred, and awakened a thousand tender recollections. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. She had noticed a twenty year pattern emerging, and funny how opportunity seemed to strike just when she was getting truly anxious. Hers is quite the most exclusive set in London. That, Sir, is what I call being a Good Samaritan. “You are too good for me,” she said in a low voice.
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