She even had books by H. He was really very proud of her, and extraordinarily angry and resentful at the innocent and audacious selfreliance that seemed to intimate her sense of absolute independence of him, her absolute security without him. Last time I left home I felt as hard as nails. Going involved two things that all Ann Veronica’s tact had been ineffectual to conceal from her aunt and father. When I think of those ateliers of ours, the art jargon, the decadents with their flamboyant talk I long for a twoedged sword and a minute of Divinity. I had been about as foolish and selfish as a girl could be. Mere hangers on. I am.
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