Yes—as he would have liked. Listen to me, Winifred. Perhaps the boys had already faced off and he had missed it, he thought sourly. With me behaving as if everything was infinitely matter-of-fact, what could he do? And just then Heaven sent old Manningtree—I didn’t tell you before of the fortunate intervention of Manningtree, did I? He was looking quite infernally distinguished, with a wide crimson ribbon across him—what IS a wide crimson ribbon? Some sort of knight, I suppose. For now, I fear there is something worse, something more present. It was, Ann Veronica felt, as a sip or so of that remarkable blend warmed her blood, just the sort of thing that her aunt would not approve, to be lunching thus, tete-a-tete with a man; and yet at the same time it was a perfectly innocent as well as agreeable proceeding. But there was something else; and in his befogged mental state the comparison eluded him. Her bald head had swollen on her shoulders, puffy with fresh blood that ringed her mouth.
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