Ann Veronica had no answer for a moment. How she hated talking of the man who was responsible for her being brought into the world. Heliers. ’ ‘Me, miss?’ uttered Mrs Ibstock doubtfully. She wrenched her head away from his grip and got her arm between his chest and hers. Meantime, as the doctor was splitting his breakfast orange, he heard a commotion in his office, two rooms removed: volleys of pidgin English, one voice in protest, the other dominant. Voilà tout. Ruth was not a woman; she was a phenomenon. Admire her as much as you choose—at a distance. ‘See that writing table? Go and look in the drawer there.
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