Chapter XXI HER SISTER’S SECRET “I think,” Lady Ferringhall said, “that you are talking very foolishly. “Who took care of you after she died?” “My father. It was—in connection with this man Hill. Ann Veronica loved beautiful things, and the beauty of undraped loveliness not least among them; but these were pictures that did but insist coarsely upon the roundness of women’s bodies. She imagined herself on a barren 41 plain, post-Apocalypse, convulsing, waiting to die with the cockroach. It had thrust her back with an undignified scuffle, with vulgar comedy, with an unendurable, scornful grin. ” And Ann Veronica’s face was hot. " The air in the narrow street, which was not eight feet wide, swarmed with smells impossible to define; but all at once the pleasantly pungent odour of Chinese incense drifted across the girl's face, and gratefully she quickened her inhalations. “Why shouldn’t one face the facts of one’s self?” She stood up. ’ ‘But you must,’ Gerald said, quite as if he meant it. ‘Hilary, thank God! Have you a pistol about you? Or better yet, your sword.
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