The figure of her aunt, a little distant, a little propitiatory, behind the coffee things, filled her with a sense of almost catastrophic adventure.  Perhaps she might never come back to that breakfast-room again.  Never!  Perhaps some day, quite soon, she might regret that breakfast-room.  She helped herself to the remainder of the slightly congealed bacon, and reverted to the problem of getting her luggage out of the house.  She decided to call in the help of Teddy Widgett, or, failing him, of one of his sisters.

Part 2

She found the younger generation of the Widgetts engaged in languid reminiscences, and all, as they expressed it, a “bit decayed.”  Every one became tremendously animated when they heard that Ann Veronica had failed them because she had been, as she expressed it, “locked in.”

“My God!” said Teddy, more impressively than ever.

“But what are you going to do?” asked Hetty.

“What can one do?” asked Ann Veronica.  “Would you stand it?  I’m going to clear out.”

“Clear out?” cried Hetty.

“Go to London,” said Ann Veronica.

She had expected sympathetic admiration, but instead the whole Widgett family, except Teddy, expressed a common dismay.  “But how can you?” asked Constance.  “Who will you stop with?”

“I shall go on my own.  Take a room!”

“I say!” said Constance.  “But who’s going to pay for the room?”

“I’ve got money,” said Ann Veronica.  “Anything is better than this—­this stifled life down here.”  And seeing that Hetty and Constance were obviously developing objections, she plunged at once into a demand for help.  “I’ve got nothing in the world to pack with except a toy size portmanteau.  Can you lend me some stuff?”

“You are a chap!” said Constance, and warmed only slowly from the idea of dissuasion to the idea of help.  But they did what they could for her.  They agreed to lend her their hold-all and a large, formless bag which they called the communal trunk.  And Teddy declared himself ready to go to the ends of the earth for her, and carry her luggage all the way.

Hetty, looking out of the window—­she always smoked her after-breakfast cigarette at the window for the benefit of the less advanced section of Morningside Park society—­and trying not to raise objections, saw Miss Stanley going down toward the shops.

“If you must go on with it,” said Hetty, “now’s your time.”  And Ann Veronica at once went back with the hold-all, trying not to hurry indecently but to keep up her dignified air of being a wronged person doing the right thing at a smart trot, to pack.  Teddy went round by the garden backs and dropped the bag over the fence.  All this was exciting and entertaining.  Her aunt returned before the packing was done, and Ann Veronica lunched with an uneasy sense of bag and hold-all packed up-stairs and inadequately hidden from chance intruders