Her sister Alice seemed to have developed a religious sense away there in Yorkshire, and made appeals that had no meaning for Ann Veronica’s mind. ‘It does not seem to me that you can be an emissary for that pig. The taste of his sweat was intoxicating, like sweet brandy, like blood. Under another name,—not my own hateful one,—I will strive to distinguish myself in some foreign service, and win myself a reputation, or perish honourably. “I am frightened now. “But why, Lucy? Who is it 145 that you are trying to hide from? John?” Lucy closed her eyes in earnest. ’ ‘Yes, I know,’ Gerald put in with an irrepresssible chuckle.
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