’ ‘But, Marthe, you do not imagine that I would have taken the veil like you, even if you have not told me. You are different, Lucia, undamaged even after what you have been through, still pure of heart. But Sheppard answered for him. And it’s no use thinking he’d stop her. Could she go through with it? She must. He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. I’m in a mess—a nasty mess! a filthy mess! Oh, no end of a mess! “Do you hear, Ann Veronica?—you’re in a nasty, filthy, unforgivable mess! “Haven’t I just made a silly mess of things? “Forty pounds! I haven’t got twenty!” She got up, stamped with her foot, and then, suddenly remembering the lodger below, sat down and wrenched off her boots.
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