Faintly bothered by what it might mean, Gerald rose from his seat and crossed to the tray to pour himself a glass of wine. “They might do you good,” she remarked. You see, aunt, it’s the only possible way for me to get a good degree in my subjects, and father won’t hear of it. Yes, yes, there is no doubt about it. The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style. And imprinting a kiss upon his mother's cold lips, he left the room.
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