She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground. When she came in after dinner that night, Ruth was no longer an interesting phenomenon, something figuratively to tear apart and investigate: she was talismanic. Amidship there was also canvas, and like that over the wheel, drab and dirty. Anna felt that her words had become charged with a fuller and more subtle meaning than any which she had intended to impart. ‘But that is easy. Who is it?” The man came a little further into the room. She said as much to him. “Why on earth,” he asked, “did you hurt me like that?” Ann Veronica did her best to think she had not deliberately attempted to cause him pain.
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