’ Lady Bicknacre, resplendent in purple satin, and basking in her triumphantly full rooms—for it was obvious that her patronage of the refugees had set a quickly to be followed fashion—was all sorrow and sympathy when Gerald spoke of them. “What of her? Have you quarrelled with her?” The girl shook her head. Do you think she does?” Ann Veronica picked among her salad with a judicial expression of face. Considering his convictions he felt that his remark was a generous one. Ennison looked down on him in disgust. The slack of her ridinghabit and full under-petticoats was gathered into her left hand, and her booted ankles were visible as she held the skirts well out of her way.
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