There came a wild rush of anthropological lore into her brain, a flare of indecorous humor. “There is someone in my rooms,” Anna said. ’ Upon which, she darted through the library door, galvanising both the sergeant and his two militiamen into action. ’ With an air of real interest, he asked, ‘I suppose you did not dig a tunnel or fly in by balloon?’ The lady gazed at him blankly. They are their mother’s sons. Ann Veronica could at the same time ask herself what this queer old gentleman could have meant by speaking to her, and know—know in general terms, at least—what that accosting signified.
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