Ennison seemed to feel already the shadow of tragedy approaching. It seemed as if each time her imagination reached out investingly, an invisible lash beat it back. "The nurses," she answered. Besides these there was a warm gooseberry-tart, and a cold pigeon pie—the latter capacious enough, even allowing for its due complement of steak, to contain the whole produce of a dovecot; a couple of lobsters and the best part of a salmon swimming in a sea of vinegar, and shaded by a forest of fennel. Part 6 When Ann Veronica reached her little bed-sitting-room again, every nerve in her body was quivering with shame and self-disgust. ” “Fine. This is your moment.
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