She would come and sit cross-legged just beyond the bamboo curtain and silently watch him at work. ‘Beg pardon, sir?’ asked the sergeant, evidently mystified. Ann Veronica watched her face, vaguely sympathizing with her, vaguely disliking her physical insufficiency and her convulsive movements, and the fine eyebrows were knit with a faint perplexity. “Ding-dong-Diedermayer is here, Lucy. It was there in the breast pocket, stiff and legal looking. Celeste introduced him to me—oh, how Celeste hated me! She must have known. “Very good,” he said.
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