\" Diane Vorsack chirped with the grin of a Cheshire Cat, extending her right hand in greeting. Ann Veronica was lying on her bed in a darkling room staring at the ceiling. ‘Don’t even think of it,’ warned Gerald, in the voice generally reserved for his men. Her hair once more was arranged with its old simplicity. He went on munching his water-chestnuts, and stared at the skyline. His two wives have been here. A single glance served to show the thief-taker how matters stood. All her pride raged at me. “What was that?” she asked sharply.
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