In her usual style, she interviewed him for his life and was pleased that he liked nothing more than to talk about himself. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods. ‘Who’s this, then? Not soldiers again. McClintock had brought from Penang three mangosteen evergreens; and, wonders of wonders, they had thrived —as trees. “I don’t love him,” said Ann Veronica, getting a gleam. But Gerald wouldn’t hear of it. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. But it's so wonderful to watch you! Whenever you have written something beautiful, your face shows it. . ’ ‘Ah, so you did come here to find someone,’ Gerald responded eagerly. ’ He added pointedly, ‘Early this morning that were. ” “I don’t want absolution. She hadn't meant to ask anything for herself.
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