It might have been the moon, or the phosphorescence of the broken water, or it might have been his abysmal loneliness; but suddenly he caught her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth. He’s got flowers. We middle-aged fools and we old fools can no longer dream. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. Except for one memorable school excursion to Paris, Ann Veronica had never yet been outside England. ’ ‘That I do not doubt,’ Gerald muttered drily, but added in a tone of intense satisfaction, ‘Then this husband is still in France? Excellent.
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