The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. He walked with bent head. Ennison himself, with the recollection of Annabel’s visit still fresh in his mind, was for a moment constrained and ill at ease. Tombs were desecrated, beautiful statues toppled, and the colorful shops that she had been enchanted by along the canal had been closed or burned. What Miss Miniver would have called the Higher Truth supervenes. Ruth, having decided a course for herself—that of renunciation—and having the strength to keep it, met these advances in precisely the mood they were offered. She smiled encouragingly, laying aside her plate and turning her chair from the table.
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