It was too good to be true. There was a little pause between them, full for Ann Veronica of rapid elusive suspicions and intimations. ‘I live in Kent. She thought of her aunt and that purse that was dropped on the table, and of many troublesome and ill-requited kindnesses; she thought of the help of the Widgetts, of Teddy’s admiration; she thought, with a new-born charity, of her father, of Manning’s conscientious unselfishness, of Miss Miniver’s devotion. Here I am as an alternative either to nasty work—or going home. But in a moment she believed she understood. ” She paused.
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