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. ‘There’s no controlling you, is there?’ He held up his hands. “Very much as usual,” said Ramage. ’ He clenched his fists and grew red in the face. The oranges were of the Syrian variety, small but filled with scarlet honey. It was a moment or two before Gerald realised that he could feel the fluttering of her pulse beneath the light touch he had on her wrist, and that her fingers were trembling in his. ’ ‘I will not.
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