Section 2. She realized more and more the quality of the brink upon which she stood—the dreadful readiness with which in certain moods she might plunge, the unmitigated wrongness and recklessness of such a self-abandonment. He had put himself before the threshold of damnation; for Ruth was now a vestal in the temple. Annabel ignored both the chair and the invitation. . That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. Then she slowly straightened, releasing him. She hid behind a mirage of piety, just as I do. So I come round the other way and—Lordy, miss, I’m that sorry I made a mull of it. ‘—without telling her why,’ he finished, ignoring the interjection. “If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand. ” She thought more and more along that line.
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