A young lad—Roding took him for a footman, or a groom by the neat black garb—was halted some paces away from Valade, his hat in his hand as he made pretence of fanning himself. Her aunt had a once exasperating habit of interrupting her work with demands for small household services, but now Ann Veronica rendered them with a queer readiness of anticipatory propitiation. ‘You don’t know the whole, child. Quick, now. “I’ll get a towel. ‘Gone!’ he said. Only identity, and a chance to be someone other than a nun. U. I speak frankly, because you also know that no possible extremity would induce me to accept help from any living person.
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