“Annabel,” she said brusquely. You’ll never see the light of day as long as you live. “Ann Veronica,” he said. “What have I been all this time?” she asked herself, and answered, “Just stark egotism, crude assertion of Ann Veronica, without a modest rag of religion or discipline or respect for authority to cover me!” It seemed to her as though she had at last found the touchstone of conduct. Every now and then she fingered an ornament, moved a piece of furniture, or rearranged some draperies. Cosette sat under the table, still as a mouse, fondling her pitiful doll.
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