The autumn rain had made every surface tacky, the wet seats of painted red picnic tables were avoided. All the initial confidence in herself was gone; her courage was merely a shell to hide the lack. "But if my career were truly exhibited, it must be as one long struggle against destiny in the shape of—" "Jonathan Wild," interposed Gay. She understood. She lunched at a creamery in Great Portland Street, and as the day was full of wintry sunshine, spent the rest of the lunch-hour in a drowsy gloom, which she imagined to be thought upon the problems of her position, on a seat in Regent’s Park. From the first, Ann Veronica found him an exceptionally interesting man. Manning came into her thoughts again, an unexpected, tall, dark, self-contained presence at the Fadden.
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