She was posing before the mirror, critically, miserably, defensively, and perhaps bewilderedly. “NO!” she said, at last, with something in her voice that reminded Ann Veronica of a sprung tennis-racket. ” “Then don’t talk to me now. ‘Because I’m a female,’ declared Lucilla unanswerably. Then she cursed herself for his eyes went to the letter and came back to her face. I pity her from the bottom of my heart. And a ballot-box—” Her face assumed an expression of intellectual conflict. Capes agreed with the utmost cordiality.
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