. Vexation at his folly in suffering himself to be thus entrapped kept Wood for a short time silent. It is abominable—” “What is the use of keeping up this note of indignation, Ann Veronica? Here I am! I am your lover, burning for you. ’ Fury was in her face. “It is part of the irony of life,” he said. Promise me that you will not disobey the injunctions of her whose memory we must both of us ever revere. The address was of course her destination, thousands of miles away, an infinitesimal spot in a terrifying space. ’ The lady uttered a scornful sound. After what seemed like an eternity he turned right onto a dirt road that ended unceremoniously at a copse of leafless trees.
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