” Ann Veronica looked at the mildly pensive gray eyes and the comfortable, rather refined face with a penetrating curiosity. ” The figure of her aunt, a little distant, a little propitiatory, behind the coffee things, filled her with a sense of almost catastrophic adventure. ‘Now what?’ The girl’s voice was shaking, and there were, he saw now, angry tears in her eyes. One or two of the tables were occupied by groups of fat frowzy women in flat caps, with rings on their thumbs, and baskets by their sides; and no one who had listened for a single moment to their coarse language and violent abuse of each other, would require to be told they were fish-wives from Billingsgate. Maternal relations. But never had the hand touched her with a father's caress; never had he taken her into his arms; never had he kissed her. His voice had changed, the joy had gone out of it; and she understood that something from the past had rolled up to spoil this hour. Arrived in the plantation she sat down with her back against a tree trunk. On the mantelpiece in front of her was a note addressed to her in Annabel’s handwriting. ‘Oh, my God, she’s gone!’ Wrenching his hand from his friend’s slackened grasp, he darted for the door, Roding behind him. ’ She bit her lip and thought deeply. A single glance served to show the thief-taker how matters stood.
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