There was a little pause between them, full for Ann Veronica of rapid elusive suspicions and intimations. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. ’ She stopped, her lips tightening. I’ve made no one happy. “I don’t think you realize,” Ann Veronica began again, “that I am rather a defective human being. ” Her answer was terse. It had seemed to her that life might be very good indeed with his kindliness and sacrifice about her. The parlour was cluttered but cosy.
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