Servants were passing backwards and forwards with tea and chocolate. ToC Jonathan Wild, meanwhile, had quitted the house. But all of that was forgotten. He had had five children at irregular intervals, of whom Ann Veronica was the youngest, so that as a parent he came to her perhaps a little practised and jaded and inattentive; and he called her his “little Vee,” and patted her unexpectedly and disconcertingly, and treated her promiscuously as of any age between eleven and eight-and-twenty. They used the rope—not that a rope was at all necessary, but because Ann Veronica’s exalted state of mind made the fact of the rope agreeably symbolical; and, anyhow, it did insure a joint death in the event of some remotely possibly mischance. “I’ve thought about it. “Where are they?” She looked around. ‘Didn’t mean to say that. He forgot for the moment his own self-pity, the egotism of his own passionate love. We were talking about the suffrage—and I rather scoffed. I am really in earnest.
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