‘You have a knack of saying just the wrong thing. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. Her recent attitude towards him was undoubtedly a pose. “Life’s so queer,” she said, kneeling and looking into the flames. The chapel was crowded to excess. But all those empty years!… My heart was hot. We have lived under the same roof, but our ways seem to have lain wide apart.
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