He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. “I would give my life for you. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. It’s a mismatch. ’ ‘Hélas, poor you,’ Melusine rejoined sarcastically. He was fast rising to an eminence that no one of his nefarious profession ever reached before him, nor, it is to be hoped, will ever reach again.
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