We’ll go. “I suppose I fell in love with her, Ann Veronica. And then, as she stood there, with the fragments of the torn canvas at her feet, some even caught upon her skirt, the door was thrown open, and a girl entered humming a light tune. So that it seemed to her the whole world had changed —the very light of it had changed. He spoke English with astonishing facility and with a purity which often embarrassed his tourists. Then she went in and up-stairs, hesitated on the landing, and finally, a little breathless and with an air of great dignity, opened the door and walked into Ann Veronica’s room. This was number 13, Montague Street, familiarly spoken of in the neighbourhood as “White’s.
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