‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand. Upstairs, in the little dressing-room, the panel was opened by means of tugging a small candlesconce in the wall. ‘As a matter of fact, I’m not at all sympathique. I love you still, Anna, but life holds other things than the love of man for woman. And yet for all that— It got into Ann Veronica’s nights at last and kept her awake, the perplexing contrast between the advanced thought and the advanced thinker. Sebastian was physically beautiful, she reflected.
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