Her heart failed her and her resolution became water. Ann Veronica stared for a moment in amazement at this dark-green object that clashed as it was put down. Valade accorded the major’s greeting a brief nod and gave his attention back to St Erme. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. They don’t count, and I don’t care.
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