Ann Veronica woke rather later than usual, and lay awake for some minutes before she remembered a certain resolution she had taken in the small hours. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. The blast shrieked, as if exulting in its wrathful mission. Martha had not been pleased to find her spare one borrowed for that expedition when the major had found her outside the ballroom. I have it on my conscience that I offended you—” “Offended me when?” “I’ve been haunted by the memory of you. She seemed bursting with the desire to talk, and watching for her opportunity. ’ ‘You mean the bookroom, miss.
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