Nobody regards Constance or Vee as a delicate trifle. I don’t know. Ennison seemed to feel already the shadow of tragedy approaching. “What have I been all this time?” she asked herself, and answered, “Just stark egotism, crude assertion of Ann Veronica, without a modest rag of religion or discipline or respect for authority to cover me!” It seemed to her as though she had at last found the touchstone of conduct. Thames Darrell MUST die. She spoke with fluent enthusiasm. She felt flattered. “Are you A, B, C, or D?” he asked.
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