The smile had become a laugh. Presently repellance grew under the frozen mask of astonishment and dissipated it. The day had become suddenly overcast. Ann Veronica found herself walking back down the Avenue that had just been the scene of her first proposal beside her aunt, and speculating for the first time in her life about that lady’s mental attitudes. Each manuscript was like the other: the same lovely treatment of an unlovely subject. He pulled down a chair to her left. Sheppard let fall her basket. She had been sitting on the bench for two and a half hours, which was uneventful except for the homeless men who begged for change. She could tell that he was furious in that instant. She was a trained being—trained by an implacable mother to one end. She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively.
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