The thought of their faces, and particularly of her aunt’s, as it would meet the fact— disconcerted, unfriendly, condemning, pained—occurred to her again and again. She then opened Lucy’s meager closet and plucked out a pair of heeled boots usually reserved for weddings and funerals. But in a moment she believed she understood. “I wonder,” said Ann Veronica at last, “if I am beautiful? I wonder if I shall ever shine like a light, like a translucent goddess?— “I wonder— “I suppose girls and women have prayed for this, have come to this—In Babylon, in Nineveh. It was as if she had come upon the beautiful marble façade of a fairy palace, was invited to enter, and behind the door—nothing. ” Cathy insisted.
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