“Absolutely platonically,” she said. Wood was not particularly fortunate in his own matrimonial connections. She had even played in an opera by Verdi once, but had to dress as a boy to do it. "But don't ever let me see them again. ‘André? Que dit-il?’ ‘My wife does not understand,’ said the fellow, frowning deeply. “And even then—” The conversation hung for a thoughtful moment. But if we had gone under—!” They regarded one another silently, and Ann Veronica had one of her penetrating flashes. She knew, or guessed his mission too, for more than once their eyes met, and she laughed mockingly at him.
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