She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. ” “Couldn’t I make a treaty?” Ann Veronica thought, and could not see any possible treaty that would leave it open for her to have quasi-surreptitious dinners with Ramage or go on walking round the London squares discussing Socialism with Miss Miniver toward the small hours. The conflict was of short duration; for Shotbolt was no match for his athletic antagonist. Here, indeed, was a type with which he had never until now come into contact—a natural woman. I ——” He stopped short. Instead, she laughed, laughed with lips and eyes, laughed till the tears ran down her cheeks.
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