Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. Michelle ate fast, and Lucy followed her lead, shoveling mashed potatoes and salmon down her gullet in a passionless frenzy. They were exquisite. He would stare at her intensely when he was certain his parents were not looking in his direction. He had chosen his time well. He stood with his hands in his pockets looking at Miss Klegg’s back. At the present moment she was living in a world of her own creation, a carnival of brave men and fair women, characters out of the tales she had so newly read for the first time. Following this direction, he opened a gate, and struck into one of the most beautiful green lanes imaginable; which, after various windings, conducted him into a more frequented road, and eventually brought him to the place he sought. Somewhere she had read that it was the proper thing to do and that men liked to be alone with their tobacco. .
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