He opened the drawer of the writing table. . As she started, rearing up her head, a hand stole about her mouth and closed down hard. To escape one phase of loneliness she had plunged into another, so vast that her courage sometimes faltered. The rich, heavy food sat in her stomach like so many soft pebbles. ‘One of they Frenchies, that’s what I say—if it ain’t a ghost. ’ Gerald frowned. 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. ‘Where’s the sense in running away?’ ‘Doesn’t trust me,’ Gerald said briefly.
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