For the first time, perhaps, in his life, he repented of his brutality. But there was no feeling of remorse; there was only the sensation of exaltation. Nothing shall induce me to act contrary to the dictates of my conscience. ” Ann Veronica sat at the foot of the sufferer’s bed, while Teddy Widgett, being something of an athlete, occupied the only bed-room chair—a decadent piece, essentially a tripod and largely a formality—and smoked cigarettes, and tried to conceal the fact that he was looking all the time at Ann Veronica’s eyebrows.
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