After all, she found herself reflecting, behind her aunt’s complacent visage there was a past as lurid as any one’s—not, of course, her aunt’s own personal past, which was apparently just that curate and almost incredibly jejune, but an ancestral past with all sorts of scandalous things in it: fire and slaughterings, exogamy, marriage by capture, corroborees, cannibalism! Ancestresses with perhaps dim anticipatory likenesses to her aunt, their hair less neatly done, no doubt, their manners and gestures as yet undisciplined, but still ancestresses in the direct line, must have danced through a brief and stirring life in the woady buff. To fall upon those tales for the first time, when the mind was fresh and the heart was young! He became aware of an odd phase to this conversation. “This is not a matter altogether for levity, Anna,” she said. She leaned a little towards him. “You ask me to be engaged to you, Mr. They are their mother’s sons. “I mean it.
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