’ ‘Who’s bleeding to death?’ demanded Trodger. Ann Veronica was one of the few young people—and one must have young people just as one must have flowers—one could ask to a little gathering without the risk of a painful discord. I never intended it to be anything but a short story, for I had never completed even the shortest of stories unless forced to in grammar school. The Wastrel did not relish this. She could not go to him when it was apparent that he needed her beyond all other instances! What had caused this agony did not matter—then. I should lose every scrap of independence—even my self-respect.
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