Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. \"Bye, Michelle. . She laughed a little bitterly. Throughout the afternoon, while the doctor was giving her the first lesson out of his profound knowledge of life, her interest would break away continually, despite her honest efforts to pin it down to the facts so patiently elucidated for her. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change. James Figg was the most perfect master of self-defence of his day. (What was the name he had given her that day?) He was walking beside the chair upon which appeared to be a bundle of colours.
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