Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. “I am so sorry to have startled you,” she said, “but I was startled myself. ’ Gerald drew his breath in sharply as Lord Charvill took a step towards his granddaughter, thrusting out his head. But did Gerald trouble himself about her? No. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself. She gave tongue to the most urgent of her plaints. He was the social order; he was law and wisdom. After dinner Ann Veronica went into the drawing-room with Miss Stanley, and her father went up to his den for his pipe and pensive petrography. “I wish he had,” she said. "I've the Bridewell account to settle.
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