” “I want a vote,” said Ann Veronica. They're on the forward lounge in the saloon. He looked at Annabel, whose face was buried in her hands— he looked back at Anna, who was regarding him with an easy composure which secretly irritated him. . Or did he? Perhaps he had found another. ” Lucy considered the irony that Michelle had spent seventeen years waiting to escape the suburban existence she had always longed to live. The skies became brilliant; the dry monsoon was setting in. Here, where every element of her surroundings was tawdry and commonplace, and before this young man of vulgar origin and appearance, it was striking. The will to live had returned.
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