The curtain came festooning slowly down, the music ceased, the lights in the auditorium glowed out, and Ann Veronica woke out of her confused dream of involuntary and commanding love in a glory of sound and colors to discover that Ramage was sitting close beside her with one hand resting lightly on her waist. “I’ve thought about it. This lover of yours—” “He doesn’t know!” cried Ann Veronica. Jane was a smoldering auburn-haired Irish beauty who seldom spoke to anyone. And so, here we are, right back from where we started. After occupying himself thus for the best part of an hour, he thought Jack must have given him the slip.
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