265 The madness crept around her like smoke under a door. John laughed even harder, his eyes misting over. “That’s HIM,” said Ann Veronica, in sound, idiomatic English. " "Silly love stories?" "No; love wasn't the theme. ’ ‘Because I was a servant in the vicomte’s house? Things have changed. People shrug their shoulders and call me a crazy socialist. He was a bad dog; he knew it perfectly; but where there was laughter, there was hope. “Why could you not confide in us?” “Do what?” said Ann Veronica. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his.
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