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Ennison, or any other young man. ’ ‘Yes, do. ” “Possibly—bit by bit. “Your coffee’s too good to refuse. “I may go to Hatton House later, but you needn’t wait. It was time to disappear, no more Becks, no more Spaghetti Nights, no more afternoon kisses in the park with John Diedermayer. It was also cold, and dark, for there had been no time to light the lantern. All sorts of battered tramps, junks and riff-raff of the seas trailed in and out. He worried me to marry him. ” “I will tell her,” Anna promised. “Does he ever ask about me?” She asked, feeling like a cuckolded old maid. It was Ennison who for the rest of his visit was quiet and subdued.
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