“Love should be enough, John, but it never is. ’ ‘I am afraid that there is,’ Gerald told her evenly. “You must remember,” she said, “that you yourself are responsible for your altered looks. ‘What did you do with the portrait then? Not that I suppose it is much use any longer. Managers and accountants are always shifting about, so he tells me. It will hold aloof, a little undecided whether to pelt or not—” “That depends whether we carry ourselves as though we expected pelting,” said Ann Veronica. She fell with a plop onto her rear end in the mud and sat dumbly like a statue, water eddying around her.
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