She kept trying to shut her legs, to stop the baby from coming out. Even as she watched, the sweat of weakness began to form on his forehead and under the nether lip. “You are really a good Samaritan,” she declared. He had removed his silk hat, and now sat looking at Ann Veronica over an untouched cup of tea; he sat gloating upon her, trying to catch her eye. ’ Charvill eyed the girl with resentment. Ann Veronica’s experiences of men had been among more stable types—Teddy, who was always absurd; her father, who was always authoritative and sentimental; Manning, who was always Manning. Shari was snoring soundly. ’ A thought caught in her mind and she turned quickly to her old nurse. You are your own Heaven and your own Hell, Lucy.
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