It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman. ’ She spoke with difficulty, holding down the rising emotion that threatened to overwhelm her. Well, after all, he seemed to be turning the subject. For her mother to betray her seemed inevitable, but the betrayal seemed worse than her fate. She made herself serenely unaware of his existence, though it may be it was his presence that sent her by the field detour instead of by the direct path up the Avenue. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change. ” “But if we were?” said Ann Veronica. "I'm not worth it. One of your aunts died, I believe, and the other removed to London.
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