’ ‘Yolande, my maid?’ ‘You don’t need a maid,’ Martha said stoutly. ” Ann Veronica read this letter through with grave, attentive eyes. ’ Charvill eyed the girl with resentment. Her fingers were bursting through her gloves, as if to get at once into touch with Ann Veronica. The image of Major Alderley came into her mind. He was in a position to help her. She loved to be there, taking part in it all, breathing it, being it. ” “Do what?” “Oh!—anything. He was asleep. Still—you must learn for yourself. But the wench who tricked me shall bitterly repent it. I deserve pretty much what I’ve got.
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