” A fair-haired young Englishman looked up from the depths of his easy chair. “Forgive my coming in,” she said to Ennison. “But why is it preposterous?” asked Ann Veronica, and fiddled with a pipe on the mantel. She veiled her emotion by taking off his overcoat. Instead, he was bowing to her greataunt. Lucy could see her striding down a Parisian catwalk quite easily. “I’ve been playing since I was five, Lucy! You’re just more talented than I am. In you—if you can love me—there is salvation. "Close the court, Mr. ” An immense gulf seemed to open between father and daughter as he said these words.
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