” “So much the better,” Anna declared cheerfully. ” “Did it hurt when we did it?” His voice rose, inflamed with worry. And there," he added, placing in his hands a heavy bag of money, and a pocketbook, "is a sum little short of fifteen thousand pounds. “You are of the genus obstinate,” he said. There were moments when she doubted whether the whole mass of movements and societies and gatherings and talks was not simply one coherent spectacle of failure protecting itself from abjection by the glamour of its own assertions. “Child!” he cried. The wine bubbled and seethed; and the exquisite bouquet of oranges permeated the room. ‘Do you not understand that I can trust no one—no one?’ ‘That is a pity,’ Gerald said, rising to face her. “Anna,” he pleaded, “be merciful.
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