In a tall glass the rind of a Syrian orange was arranged in spiral form. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes. That was one of the mysterious qualities of this child of the lagoon: she had always at instant service that Oriental mask of impenetrable calm that no Occidental trick could dislodge. And yet, at the end of this prayer a subconscious thought broke through to consciousness. He called a waiter. There was a little pause between them, full for Ann Veronica of rapid elusive suspicions and intimations. ” The topic of his invalid wife bored him, and he turned at once to Ann Veronica. Morningside Park had been passive and defective; all this rushed about and was active, but it was still defective. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. Annabel, tell me that you did not wish me dead. I went off to round up his wife. I dare say anything seemed better to her than the nun’s habit she had been obliged to use. The fact that it was her trusted friend making illicit love to her remained, in spite of all her effort, an insignificant thing in her mind.
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