“Why could you not confide in us?” “Do what?” said Ann Veronica. ‘No, I do not go back. Gianfrancesco’s had curved differently and was darker. She says that everyone in the house makes too much noise, my Dad snores, and that when the house is empty, the traffic noise is nearly deafening. I’m going up to London with the Widgetts to that ball. She followed Oxford Street into Holborn, and then she inquired for Chancery Lane. Anna never knew whither it had led her— sometimes she had fears. Two children, who had been caught in the jam-closet: ingratiating smiles, back of which lay doubt and fear. The windows of these rooms were obscured with draperies, their floors a carpet patchwork; the china ornaments on their mantels were of a class apart.
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