She could hear the raucous laughter and bad music below. It seemed to her that her father was in some inexplicable way meaner-looking than she had supposed, and yet also, as unaccountably, appealing. Then, as she was in the act of turning reluctantly away, she noticed a thin crack between the door and the frame. A wave of pity went over him—pity for the patient, the girl, and his friend. And, after all, a fine clear sky of bright colors is the signal to come out of hiding and rejoice and go on with life. Dreams of adorable infants danced through her head as she cradled blankets in her arms. The dance itself was anticlimactic, with teenagers trying their best to look the part of adult sophisticates on the dance floor. “Don’t come nearer!” she said. But the restraint exercised by her instinctive delicacy was very great; over and above coarse or sexual matters it covered religion and politics and any mention of money matters or crime, and Ann Veronica found herself wondering whether these exclusions represented, after all, anything more than suppressions. He was helpful, but gravely dubious.
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