Both the fugitive and his chasers embarked on the Thames. The struggle had dislodged the white wimple, which was evidently too large for her, and her black hair broke free, whirling like a whiplash about her head as her hands curled into fists, coming up to beat at his chest, her little teeth bared for attack. Borne along by the current, Darrell was instantly at the boat's side. Once a week, every Saturday, they had a little gathering from nine till the small hours, just talk and perhaps reading aloud and fruitarian refreshments—chestnut sandwiches buttered with nut tose, and so forth—and lemonade and unfermented wine; and to one of these symposia Miss Miniver after a good deal of preliminary solicitude, conducted Ann Veronica. When she awoke she felt as if she were adrift on a soft cloud through a golden sky. They did not care— servant or master, it meant nothing. To settle things, you know.
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