But tell me one thing I don’t understand—tell me one thing: How can you help it by coming down into the battle and the mire? That’s the thing that concerns me. “I don’t think you realize,” Ann Veronica began again, “that I am rather a defective human being. They fell in a diapason of smashes. ‘Don’t look at me like that,’ Martha begged. She had intended to be quietly dignified, but he was in a smouldering rage from the beginning, and began by assuming, which alone was more than flesh and blood could stand, that the insurrection was over and that she was coming home submissively. He laughed suddenly, and released her. His attitude toward her was purely intellectual, free of any sentimentality, utterly selfish.
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