Ann Veronica considered her answer. Only an undermaid I was then. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. She felt a new warmth in her blood, a strange sense of elation crept over her. ’ The listening soldiers began to snigger behind their hands. She climbed slowly towards it, keeping close to the hedge side, fragrant with wild roses, and holding her skirts high above the dew-laden grass. " "I'm convinced of it," replied Shotbolt; "and it was on that very account I came here. " Trenchard took up a pen.
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