’ Mrs Sindlesham’s mouth dropped open. “Why should it matter?” he said. In rushed Mr. ” Lucy replied. I get along with my Mom sometimes, Lucy. He has been a father to me and my child. “Sure, but it’s not like you’re married, you know. ‘But he must have—’ ‘Nicholas Charvill never did anything he must do,’ Mrs Sindlesham said evenly. “And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend. But it was only six-thirty. Then he stood up and hailed a fiacre.
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