Part 2 Ann Veronica Stanley was twenty-one and a half years old. He spent the remainder of the afternoon looking for a friend whom he found at last in the billiard room of one of the smaller clubs to which he belonged. Why, that boy could hide for thirty years—without the girl. “Is that so? Who says?” He demanded, his eyebrows arching as he looked at her with puerile glee. She responded at once, rapping him on the knuckles with her fan. ‘Did she call you that?’ asked Lucilla, amused. He turned, expecting to see his wife.
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