CHAPTER III. ‘It is what my father intended. In the pause a door could be heard opening and closing on the landing up-stairs. There is a musical programme, and we have the windows open and blinds up, and a pink lamp shade over the piano lamp—a sort of advertisement of the place, you know. They made a stratum into which Ann Veronica was now plunged up to her neck; it had become her stratum. If only Gerald would come. After all, it was what she had been praying for—and Annabel could not have known her address. It was easy to recognize, the one thing that had stayed the same over the years.
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