The tired woman looked up in inquiring silence at Ann Veronica’s diffident entry. Certainly he could not move now other than to announce the fact that he had found his man. She looked upon it with pity as she drank his diabetic blood and saw that several of his fingers were missing. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. Of a certainty, she also was imbecile. Heaven knows why! They don’t marry most of us off now until high up in the twenties. 3. Nevertheless though nearly six feet high, and correspondingly proportioned, she was a model of symmetry, and boasted, with the frame of a Thalestris or a Trulla, the regular lineaments of the Medicean Venus. The fact itself is regrettable enough—regrettable, I fear, is quite an inadequate word. Girls who had envied her former position as John’s amour passed no opportunity to utter cryptic remarks as she sat in Study Hall, walked down hallways, or rinsed her hands in the bathroom. But a middle-aged man like Ramage ought to know better than to draw out a girl, the daughter of a friend and neighbor. “Dear me!” he said.
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