If she had any idea at all, it was something she dimly recalled from her books: something celestially beautiful, with a happy ending. He understood. Her new husband had paid for a cadre of escorts back to Mantua. ‘That there governess didn’t like it, of course, me being the lodgekeeper’s girl, and Martha just a country wench like me. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. “I might go home, I don’t know. Can it ever be so good again?” Ann Veronica put out a firm hand and squeezed his arm. My poor Hoddy! I had to talk harshly, or break down and have hysterics. You’re like some splendid Princess in Exile in these Dreadful Dingy apartments!” “I’m afraid I’m anything but a Princess when it comes to earning a salary,” said Ann Veronica.
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