25 <4> THE ARRIVAL OF THE BLACK DEATH He loved her many times, especially in the first month. There was nothing to be got out of the man. She tried to appear as if she had never been questioned before. There would be no way of keeping her police questioning a secret from the entire neighborhood. Her long incarceration at the convent in Blaye had taught her to be dismissive of her own appearance. She pulled her chair with a mild creak and marched towards the stair. Stanley, putting his hands on the table in the manner rather of a barrister than a solicitor, and regarding her balefully through his glasses with quite undisguised animosity, asked, “And may I presume to inquire, then, what you mean to do?—how do you propose to live?” “I shall live,” sobbed Ann Veronica.
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