” “I am sorry,” said Ann Veronica. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. ‘I’m not going to arrest you, young Jack—yet. But now that this bar is removed, I trust I may, without impropriety, urge it. 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.
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