Part 2 Ann Veronica carried a light but business-like walking-stick. Then she called a hansom and drove home. She crouched beneath a stump, her extremities twitching as the sun set orange and blue beyond the lace of iron-black trees. Then she looked at her aunt, and traced with a curious eye the careful arrangement of her hair, her sharp nose, the little drooping lines of mouth and chin and cheek. "You are alone?" said one of the spinsters—Prudence Jedson. ’ The core of hurt rose up, tearing at her insides. Do you like duck?” “Sure. Your family has not sullied itself by dabbling in it, at least not 173 from what I know, so now is not the time to begin. Anna watched her with curious eyes.
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