‘Oh, I do love a flatterer. She twanged the catgut under her fingers. She seemed to think he was merely the paymaster, handing over the means of her freedom. The house had in fact been converted into a convent, but the fact could not be advertised, not even in the Catholic enclave that existed in this part of town. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. “I don’t care what any one thinks,” said Ann Veronica. ‘No, I do not go back. ‘You are a born rebel, ma’am, and I can see now where she gets it from. After all, what can it matter? It was just to make sure. I will never wed you.
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