‘But he must have—’ ‘Nicholas Charvill never did anything he must do,’ Mrs Sindlesham said evenly. A sob was strangled in her throat. “John, that is what you say now. ” It occurred to her that she had never seen her father dining out before, never watched him critically as an equal. Jonathan, however, still lingered. He turned the water off and handed her a towel. Captain Roding strode into the parlour. ‘That—that—why do you speak of him?’ ‘Because I feel you ought to know,’ Gerald said calmly, but rising and watching her closely, ‘that all your trouble may be in vain. The joy that filled her veins with throbbing fire urged her to rise and go swinging and whirling and dipping. Later, she would sew it on. But when all was over, a sorrowful calm succeeded, and, if not free from grief, she was tranquil. “There’s morbid beauty,” said Ann Veronica.
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