” Annabel leaned back in her chair and laughed till the tears stood in her eyes. It was the same smell that she had in his memory, but now it was definite, palpable, like a perfume. At night she would turn it in her fingers like a rosary bead. ” Ann Veronica for some indefinable reason did not want to lunch with him, a reason indeed so indefinable that she dismissed it, and Ramage went through the outer office with her, alert and attentive, to the vivid interest of the three clerks. The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. "I was only commenting.
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