Gerald took Madame’s hand and kissed the fingers with a little more warmth than punctilio demanded. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. She saw herself in very much Vivie’s position—managing something. There, hanging among Ann Veronica’s more normal clothing, was a skimpy dress of red canvas, trimmed with cheap and tawdry braid, and short—it could hardly reach below the knee. “Perhaps you will help me shuffle?” Ann Veronica did, and also assisted nimbly with the arrangements of the rows of eight with which the struggle began. John.
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