Part 2 In the late afternoon, as Ann Veronica was gathering flowers for the dinnertable, her father came strolling across the lawn toward her with an affectation of great deliberation. "It's more than I am," muttered Thames. “Your little flag of pride must flutter down with the rest of them, Ann Veronica. ‘But it is entirely myself,’ she exclaimed aloud. “Cheveney!” she repeated. ‘You know?’ ‘Come, come, Melusine. Ruth could tell the doctor; she could bare many of her innermost thoughts to that kindly man; but there was an inexplicable reserve before this young man whom she still endued with the melancholy charm of Sydney Carton. I'll wait for you down here.
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