"What a wonderful colour!" she exclaimed. She felt that she became more familiar with the floor during the time that he stayed than with any particular person. Ann Veronica ignored her friend’s confusion. ” “Why not?” She turned on him. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. He was beautiful and perfect, his blue eyes smiling at her. When she occupied, it, it was neatness itself; the little porch was overrun with creepers—the garden trim and exquisitely kept.
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