She fidgeted and looked away. ’ ‘To you,’ she said angrily. The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. The scent of cloying pine dust filled the air as floodlights shone eerily through the jungle gym of new wood. Twenty guineas, mind. ‘Jacques,’ she said, turning to the lad, and holding the habit out, ‘take this for me and leave it in the passage where we have left the lantern. Ann Veronica considered her answer. Your mother, for what it’s worth to you—for there’s nothing for you here, by God!—was the woman I chose for Nicholas.
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