She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. “It’s—private. Picked up the photograph, looked at it, handed it back, and never batted an eye! The act was as clear as daylight, but the motive was as profoundly mysterious as the race itself. Part 5 Presently it occurred to Ann Veronica to ask about the journey he had planned. He looked at his port wine as though that tawny ruby contained the solution of the matter. She had just managed to reach it, grabbing for the handle, when the enemy’s cracked command halted her.
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