Then she moved towards the door. She had once reconciled in her mind that she was happy as long as she had him. Ann Veronica sat down in the other arm-chair and darned badly for a minute or so. Moments are ages now. As she neared the bottom of the dip in Piccadilly she saw a woman approaching her from the opposite direction—a tall woman who at the first glance seemed altogether beautiful and fine. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger. “Perhaps,” she said, “it is the London climate.
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