She understood. It was the sing-song girl idea, magnified many diameters. They stank, and she hated how they blocked the sunlight. ” “I suppose we are,” said Vee, rearranging the flowers in her hand. In her case the barrier was not selfishness but the perception that her interest would be misinterpreted, naturally. She put her hand in his to be squeezed. Washed in light from the vestry window, she held her ground, all thought at bay, bar the steel determination long ago instilled in her by her unconventional tutor. "My name is Ruth Enschede. ” “Altogether holy, Ann Veronica. ] "So much the better. He was also, had she known it, more than a little insincere.
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