“Your little flag of pride must flutter down with the rest of them, Ann Veronica. Don't ask any more questions. For a while they stood there, silent, motionless, staring at the doorway where still a few strings of the bamboo curtain swayed and twisted, agitated by the Wastrel's passage. I can keep you. He might solve the riddle. We must wave our hands at the blue hills far away there and go back to London and work. A few seasons went by where he initiated her into the disgusting rituals of killing and eating human beings, a dark time where she pined for a rescuer who never arrived. She contrived to break down the barriers of shyness at last in one direction, and talked one night of love and the facts of love with Miss Miniver. “You said you were in love with me,” said Ann Veronica; “I wanted to explain —” “I said I loved and wanted you.
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