She made an abrupt personal appeal. “My husband!” she laughed a little derisively. Not the most stringent search, conducted all morning, turned up one solitary sheet. ‘To the contrary, I will have you to know something. “It was your own fault,” she exclaimed. Her teachers and mistresses had done their best to stamp her mind with an ineradicable persuasion that it was tremendously important, and on no account to be thought about. Whenever ecstasy— any kind of ecstasy—filled her heart to bursting, these physical expressions eased the pressure. “I’d chuck this lark right off if I were you, Vee,” he said.
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