The Well Hole 336 XIII. Miraculously, her schoolmates were so upswept in their own summer planning that they had no time to interrogate her. “Who’s your violin teacher?” He asked. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. And you shall have a share of the gold for yourself. Michelle’s eyes were red and bloodshot. I had been about as foolish and selfish as a girl could be. Fame of any sort was folly and she knew better. A pity, en effet, that she dare not truly desire him to rescue her.
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