“Didn’t you know he was married?” asked Miss Klegg, and was struck by a thought that made her glance quickly at her companion. “Look here, father,” she said, with a change in her voice, “suppose I won’t stand it?” He regarded her as though this was a new idea. In some cases they were ground almost to powder; in others, driven deeply into the earth, as if discharged from a piece of ordnance. It was a cheerful, irresponsible, shamelessly hard-up family in the key of faded green and flattened purple, and the girls went on from the High School to the Fadden Art School and a bright, eventful life of art student dances, Socialist meetings, theatre galleries, talking about work, and even, at intervals, work; and ever and again they drew Ann Veronica from her sound persistent industry into the circle of these experiences. His long struggle with himself, his avoidance of her were quite unnecessary.
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