The music took hold of her slowly as her eyes wandered from the indistinct still ranks of the audience to the little busy orchestra with its quivering violins, its methodical movements of brown and silver instruments, its brightly lit scores and shaded lights. But she could see that Diane watched her more closely now, and in a cat-like way. “I think everything’s right,” said Ann Veronica, with the roaming eye of a capable but not devoted house-mistress. Her husband stared at her over the candle flame. Wood could stand it no longer. “We will try and make you happy, my dear, so that you may learn that lovemaking is perhaps a little more than your idea of a woman’s duty. Alarmed by the noise of the scuffle, Quilt and Sharples rushed to the assistance of their comrade. The man is a stranger to me.
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