In the corner of the room were two hockey-sticks and a tennis-racket, and upon the walls Ann Veronica, by means of autotypes, had indicated her proclivities in art. She loves you too well for that. Part 6 When Ann Veronica reached her little bed-sitting-room again, every nerve in her body was quivering with shame and self-disgust. But you belong to me—and I want you. You want to think for a time, to be free for a time. She hunted the markets for bread and treats so they could feast during the day. Gerald reached out a hand to stop her. Even the love of a mother does not sway him. I can’t do it even decently myself, and I dare not run the risk of ruining all my clothes. We have known men who have come here for no other purpose than to prove their unassailable virtue, who have strode into the arena of temptation, waving the—the what is it—the white flower of a blameless life, only to exchange it with marvellous facility for the violets of the Parisienne.
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