Fritz flailed against his mother wildly, crying generous tears. “The first person you love, Ann Veronica, is yourself—get hold of that! The soul you have to save is Ann Veronica’s soul. The ambitions of his life, and they were many, seemed to lie far away, broken up dreams in some outside world where the way was rough and the sky always grey. She had fallen asleep on the wooden bed, uncaring of lice or bedbugs. Nay, for aught I know, some of them may even now have got scent of me. I only want to know the truth, and I will move heaven and earth to have it set aside. She got up early, and walked about the garden in the dewy June sunshine and revived her childhood. Book.
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