She did not enter the cabin at once, but paused on the threshold and stared at the silent, recumbent figure in the bunk. John’s father brought down a violin from a high closet shelf. She dropped beside the chair, sat cross-legged, and laughed at the futile jade-coloured wall. They talked lightly and smoked cigarettes till Anna, with a little laugh, threw open the window and let in the cool night air. “Heavens!” exclaimed Ann Veronica, with extraordinary passion. She had, it was true, accepted doubtfully the pen he had offered. “You see,” he said, “from my point of view you’re grown up— you’re as old as all the goddesses and the contemporary of any man alive. ” She solemnly replied.
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