The question ceased to be a tea-table talk, and became suddenly tragically real for Ann Veronica. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. Along the inner side was a wonderfully arranged series of displayed specimens that Russell himself had prepared. She had just managed to reach it, grabbing for the handle, when the enemy’s cracked command halted her. ‘Give me that!’ He took his finger away from her neck and made a grab at the handkerchief. But whenever the storm grew dangerous, either McClintock or Spurlock broke into saving laughter.
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