She had the dowry she needed for the lawyers were working to give her Remenham House. “If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand. Immortal! You were in the beginning, and all the men in the world who have known what love is have worshipped at your feet. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being. Do you see why I have hidden the terrible things from you? I chose you because you are my perfect mate. “I shan’t eat him. She was tired, hungry—and thus somewhat impatient for the food Mrs Ibstock might bring—and downcast.
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