The girl regarded him with the face of a Sphinx. ‘Quite mad, nuns are. “Why?” he asked, suavely. She felt draggled and insulted beyond redemption. The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. . Hitherto you’ve seen only my easy, kindly side. She saw her aunt in tears, her father white-faced and hard hit. ‘You mean I should give myself a dressingdown? Very well. ‘It is not for myself, you understand,’ pursued the man, in an unctuous tone that sickened the general, ‘but for this poor one. The prisoner breathed with difficulty. The chromatic fiction with which he relieved his mind glanced but slightly at this aspect of life, and never with any quality of guidance. ” He asked questions and listened to her views for a time.
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