“Ye Gods!” she said at last. My agent is here, and he has brought his contract for me to sign. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. ‘Will that be all, ma’am?’ ‘Yes, yes. Cathy threw Mike a look. 155 The ringing doorbell jarred her from her stupor. If I had never met anything of you at all but a scrap of your skin binding a book, Ann Veronica, I know I would have kept that somewhere near to me. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. There’s no logic in these things. We met dissecting dogfish.
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