"How is Mr. She took it for granted Ann Veronica wore stays—mild stays, perhaps, but stays, and thought no more of the matter. ’ She eyed him, all her uncertainty surfacing. It opened and a nun’s head popped out. “But why is it preposterous?” asked Ann Veronica, and fiddled with a pipe on the mantel. “You can’t imagine,” he said, “what a beastly thing a furtive love affair can be. You do not love your husband, you have married him for a position —to escape from—things which you feared. Nevertheless, Sir John had the look of a man who was enjoying himself. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead. There was a brief pause, a crowded pause, between them.
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