Michelle winked at her and left to join the gathering of seats in the center of the theater. To her consternation, the sound drew her great-aunt’s attention and she threw out a hand. She hoped fervently that Martin had not divulged his crush to Brown. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. There, after protestations of friendliness and helpfulness that were almost ardent, he mounted a little clumsily and rode off at an amiable pace, looking his best, making a leg with his riding gaiters, smiling and saluting, while Ann Veronica turned northward and so came to Micklechesil. She looked stealthily at Anna.
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