What sort of proof? There are no papers at Remenham House. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. One would think that you enjoyed crawling away out of your world into hiding, with a very foolish wicked wife. “It’s magnificent!” He leaned back and regarded her with his head a little on one side. He talked in the same style, and pretty nearly in the same language; laughed in the same manner, and coughed, or sneezed at the same time.
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