So that the thought of Ann Veronica up-stairs had been extremely painful for her through all the silent dinner-time that night. She had begun alone. It would be swindling. ‘Well, shan’t I come to the major’s house up Stratton Street, sir?’ ‘I’ll give the major your report, Trodger. If I were to marry you now I should feel a dependent being all my life—a sort of parasitical creature without blood or muscle. Anna saw it, and for the first time found herself trembling. She was no longer there. 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. Even on cool days the gardens were colorful and bright, with orange trees emanating sweetness and bumblebees drunkenly weaving from flower to flower. I worship you. Wood, regarding her husband with a glance of vindictive triumph. And I’ll have that story off you as we journey back to town.
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