“Like him who stood on Darien I view uncharted sea Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights Before my Queen and me. ” Ann Veronica read this letter through with grave, attentive eyes. Manning, relinquishing his cup without answering her question, “when I hear you talk of earning a living, it’s as if I heard of an archangel going on the Stock Exchange—or Christ selling doves. Wearied at length with thinking on the past, and terrified by the prospect of the future, he threw himself on the straw with which the cage was littered, and endeavoured to compose himself to slumber.
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