“Oh, Veronica!” she said, “to leave your home!” She had been weeping. Hurry to me, I entreat you. I should think, Anna, that your own sense—er—of propriety would enable you to see this. ’ ‘Well, let us leave your name for the present. “My dear,” she began, with an affectionate hand on Ann Veronica’s shoulder, “I do SO wish you would realize how it grieves your father. “It is, if anything, a little above the average,” Brendon admitted. Lightheaded, she threw up in the courtyard of the Palazzo as servants crowded her in alarm. “It is about your sister, Lady Ferringhall.
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