Her fanciful imagination no longer drew pictures of the aunt in the doorway of a wooden house, her arms extended in welcome. ‘What, is Nicholas dead?’ He saw the two of them exchange glances and an instinct of danger rose up. And they admired Kent sedulously from the windows. Ann Veronica found herself walking back down the Avenue that had just been the scene of her first proposal beside her aunt, and speculating for the first time in her life about that lady’s mental attitudes. ‘You are not sympathique in the very least. Perhaps, as you say, I do not really care—but I cannot do it. I felt suddenly I understood you—as an intelligent person. Sir John followed her gaze, and also saw them.
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