She clenched her hands together and leaned forward in her chair, gazing steadily into the fire. “He’s a Fellow of the Royal Society, and he can’t be much over thirty,” said Miss Klegg. Their houses became a refuge of ill repute, the source of rumor and intrigue in the highest echelons of society. ‘Your master in?’ he demanded of the astonished footman, removing his cockaded hat and handing it over. “Veronique!” she cried with a rising intonation, though never before had she called Ann Veronica anything but Miss Stanley, and seized her and squeezed her and kissed her with profound emotion. .
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