Once a week, every Saturday, they had a little gathering from nine till the small hours, just talk and perhaps reading aloud and fruitarian refreshments—chestnut sandwiches buttered with nut tose, and so forth—and lemonade and unfermented wine; and to one of these symposia Miss Miniver after a good deal of preliminary solicitude, conducted Ann Veronica. “I should like to understand you,” he said. ‘It does not matter, Jacques. I’ve just seen him. She moved forward almost indiscernibly, a millimeter. “Why come after me after all these years, Sebastianus? Haven’t you found any sycophants to convert, any nubile young nymphets to bring into the cannibal flock?” “Why should I do that if there is still the chance of you?” “What if there could be no chance of me? How do you know you can have me?” “I see your game. “How gratified she must have been! If only I had known I would have made an effort to get home in time for dinner. Either we go forth together, or they shall bury me.
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