Give us that—” Ann Veronica came in with a certain disregard of Miss Miniver. There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears. "The Chevalier shall hear of this," whispered the woollen-draper. She had made her first fight for dignity and freedom as a grown-up and independent Person, and this was how the universe had treated her. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. Their houses became a refuge of ill repute, the source of rumor and intrigue in the highest echelons of society.
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