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Frankly, it is the funniest thing which has ever happened to me in my life. Chapter IV THE TEMPERAMENT OF AN ARTIST “You may sit there and smoke, and look out upon your wonderful Paris,” Anna said lightly. This left Spurlock alone. I wonder, Ann Veronica, if, when our time comes, we shall be any wiser?” Ann Veronica watched a water-beetle fussing across the green depths. She held it away from her with an instinctive repulsion, born of her unconquerable antipathy to the touch of strangers. Jonathan Wild must have stolen it from her. These sisters moved in a grown-up world inaccessible to Ann Veronica’s sympathies, and to a large extent remote from her curiosity. She knew it was to be a long night, and her stomach turned with the knowledge that Cathy and Larry Beck would be waiting to pick her up after the questioning, which meant they would be up all night despite the fact they both had jobs to go to in the morning. “Aren’t we all just odds and ends of humanity —the left-overs, you know. She crept out of the shadows. Then she stood up and looked around the room.
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