It was not human and yet very human, a high pitched wail of hunger that rattled her skull. They carried no more than bare subsistence wages; and they demanded all her time and energy. Their journey had made them indolent, the afternoon was warm, and it seemed impossible to breathe a sweeter air. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. . I did not have to dig deep in my imagination to create the status-obsessed suburban environment of Lucy’s modern milieu. “I believe so.
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