“It’s odd,” said Ann Veronica, re-entering the flat. McClintock's initial revulsion was natural; he was an honest man. A chill rain thrummed against the sides of John’s car, having slowed from deluge to steady patter, the snow was 158 dissolved where it lay. He beheld the grey tower of Willesden Church, embosomed in its grove of trees, now clothed, in all the glowing livery of autumn. "I should be sorry to proceed to extremities," continued Sheppard, again raising the pistol. Another day of nonsuccess would mean many disagreeable things. ” “Married?” said Ann Veronica. She wished that the drive would never end, but it was only three miles after all. . ‘But I have the pistol,’ Gerald pointed out.
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