She felt the thrill race through her body. We don’t consider each other; we needn’t. Instinctively she knew—some human recollection she had inherited—that she must not disturb him in this man-agony. One married as he wished and one against his wishes, and now here was Ann Veronica, his little Vee, discontented with her beautiful, safe, and sheltering home, going about with hatless friends to Socialist meetings and art-class dances, and displaying a disposition to carry her scientific ambitions to unwomanly lengths. Perhaps the sunken cheeks and the protruding cheekbones gave her this impression.
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