276 He opened the box. “That he should be in the same world with me!” said Ann Veronica, reduced to reading the list of good things the British Tea-Table Company had priced for its patrons. Austin could scarcely credit his senses when he beheld him. Her foster father, Larry, was the hard working son-of-a-bitch type with a disdain for suits. “I thought you were coming right across the Park. Your father has forbidden you to go!’” “Well?” “She said, ‘I hate being horrid to you and father, but I feel it my duty to go to that ball!’” “Felt it her duty!” “‘Very well,’ I said, ‘then I wash my hands of the whole business. She shuddered as his naked body pressed against her. “Umph!” he said, and regarded his letter doubtfully before consigning it to the pillar-box.
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