Could she understand what she was talking about? Luckily it was a second-class carriage and the ordinary fellowtravellers were not there. It now came to him with an added thrill how well she had told her story; simply and directly, no skipping, no wandering hither and yon: from the first hour she could remember, to the night she had fled in the proa, a clear sustained narrative. To write under a pseudonym!—to be forced to disown his children! He could not write under his own name, enjoy the fruits of fame should these tales prove successful. For a time they were very difficult. Yet through these talks, these meetings and conferences, these movements and efforts, Ann Veronica, for all that she went with her friend, and at times applauded with her enthusiastically, yet went nevertheless with eyes that grew more and more puzzled, and fine eyebrows more and more disposed to knit. She seemed tense when not playing, he noted, more so than she had during the first two pieces. The atmosphere at dinner was not propitious. ‘Now then,’ said the captain sternly, ‘I’m not going to ask you what you’re doing here.
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