But he was now too deeply moved to trace a certain unsatisfactoriness to its source in a mixture of metaphors. ‘She wormed it out of me, the little fiend. I promise not to do it again. There, after protestations of friendliness and helpfulness that were almost ardent, he mounted a little clumsily and rode off at an amiable pace, looking his best, making a leg with his riding gaiters, smiling and saluting, while Ann Veronica turned northward and so came to Micklechesil. ” “Any place would be beautiful,” said Ann Veronica, in a low voice. ’ ‘Truly?’ Melusine said excitedly.
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