And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. “Certainly I was a little way off at the café, and she had a hat and veil on, but I could have sworn that it was ‘Alcide. Tonight Lucy doled out outré physiological theories of boys and their overactive hormones. “That’s exhilarating,” said Ann Veronica. Their colloquy was ended abruptly by the apparition of Miss Klegg at the further door. Here was the place behind the shed where she had used to hide from Roddy’s persecutions, and here the border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland. ‘Where are you taking me?’ she asked, assuming a fearful accent. Above the work-table was a drop-light—kerosene.
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