She took Mr. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. “Of course it is, Anna. They don’t catch on to discursive interests, you see, because they are more serious, they are concentrated on the central reality of life, and a little impatient of its—its outer aspects. She dared not say the word aloud, not even to herself. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. " "I've had the hard work to do, at all events," rejoined Jack, "But I won't complain.
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