Conscience was always digging sudden pits for his feet and common sense ridiculing his fears. He propped himself up on one arm, kissing her passionately. Sir John was not used to such glances, and he liked them. If Ann Veronica could have put words to that song they would have been, “Hot-blooded marriage or none!” but she was far too indistinct in this matter to frame any words at all. “I propose,” Sir John said, “that we pay for our dinner—which we haven’t had— tip the garçon a sovereign, and take a cab to the Ritz. It was locked. I change them in the morning at Cannon Street, and take my book as I come down. ’ He turned to the goggling footman and thrust him towards the coach. ’ Gerald’s jaw tightened. The sing-song girl rose and meekly pattered out of the office into the night. “You did a great job on my concerto today. Knowing the South Seas from hearsay and by travel, he knew something of that inertia which blunted the fineness, innate and acquired, of white men and women, the eternal warfare against indifference and slovenliness.
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