Her moods were many and always striking. . Ann Veronica was one of the few young people—and one must have young people just as one must have flowers—one could ask to a little gathering without the risk of a painful discord. Her father’s peculiar stiffness of soul presented itself now as something altogether left out of the calculations upon which her plans were based, and, in particular, she had not anticipated the difficulty she would find in borrowing the forty pounds she needed for Ramage. She could not say a word, much less move. And I have seen work by his pupils myself that struck me as being—well, next door to shameful. Only identity, and a chance to be someone other than a nun. “How dare you!” she panted, with her world screaming and grimacing insult at her.
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