And now let's go back to the Shovels, and finish our brandewyn and bier, Muntmeester. “Why on earth,” he asked, “did you hurt me like that?” Ann Veronica did her best to think she had not deliberately attempted to cause him pain. They were a dull grey, but the dark frizzed hair that framed her face was attractive. The vast mirrored chamber, with its four little square window bays, two either side of the large raised dais that led to the French doors, was very full of company for the start of the Little Season. Ann Veronica wiped a scalpel, put a card over a watch-glass containing thin shreds of embryonic guinea-pig swimming in mauve stain, and dismantled her microscope. ‘You have said you do not wish to hurt me. ‘You have every right to be angry with me. That is what I’ve had on my conscience. The girl was pretty, and apparently a lady.
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