“The young women of Jane Austen’s time didn’t get into this sort of scrape! At least—one thinks so. I jumped then—I was not even shaken. His feet would have the firm texture of his hands. ’ Madame gave one of those breathy laughs. And turning again, as if the emotions she had churned up kept her on the move, she paced back to the mantel and there stopped, staring at her own reflection in the tarnished mirror. Master, your humble servant. ’” “Yes?” “I think—yes, I went on in a pleasing blend of the casual and sotto voce, ‘The fact of it is, sir, I happen to be your son-in-law, Capes. “You understand, then,” he was saying, “you understand?” “I understand,” said Ann Veronica, tear-wet and flushed with a reciprocal passion, but standing up to him with an equality that amazed even herself, “I understand. On approaching the couch, they found Sir Rowland senseless, and extended over the dead body of his unfortunate sister.
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