“I am sure, Anna,” she said, “I do not see why we should conceal the truth from you. It began as a joke. “If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand. ” “Why shouldn’t I go?” “It isn’t a suitable place; it isn’t a suitable gathering. They were in many respects so right; she clung to that, and shirked more and more the paradoxical conviction that they were also somehow, and even in direct relation to that rightness, absurd. I was afraid that I might be called upon as a witness. The season was ripe for mating, she thought to herself bitterly. So perfect was the illusion, that he could almost fancy he heard the solemn voice of the ordinary warning him that his race was nearly run, and imploring him to prepare for eternity.
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