Ann Veronica was apologetic to the bottom of her soul. Every movable mirror had been placed here, to discourage vanity, and since no whitewash covered the brocaded purple wallpaper, its pervasive hue gave an added sense of heaviness to the crowded chamber. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. ” “It isn’t necessary,” they both declared breathlessly. And she seemed always to keep one eye on Ann Veronica’s dress. You tried bravely enough to hide your preference, to look at us all with the same eyes, to speak to us in the same tone.
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