I must go to-night, or I shall never behold him again. Lost ground must be regained. They are used to me, they only cry because they have become so used to being here. Love lives on a higher plane. I wanted the magic of love. It was a refusal of expediency, he said, and not an absolute refusal. “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.
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