She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. She never even graduated high school, and that has been a thorn in her side ever since. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess. The time was the 26th of November, 1703: the place, the Mint in Southwark. "I have nearly done," replied the stranger. She did not learn the kind of looks she had been bestowing upon him at a convent. The money will last longer, and—it won’t bother you. She dreaded leaving him for the night, but separated herself finally. A little darling? Lord in heaven, he had taken leave of his senses. The life with which he had endued these sheets of paper began to beckon imperiously.
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