You are NOT going to that ball!” Ann Veronica tried a less genial, more dignified note. “My chief,” he said, “took it into his head to have an impromptu dinner party. She thought of how tired she was, how exhausted, how hungry. She knew blood was rushing to his face and other places as well. Besides, it was under false pretences. And then—this sudden thrust. He took about five minutes. “You asked me in to tea,” he protested. ‘I suppose I need not ask to which other soldier you refer. The papers are continually wondering what has become of ‘Alcide.
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