“Listen, Annabel,” he said hoarsely. Ann Veronica found herself in a little stirring crowd of excited women, whispering and tittering and speaking in undertones. The last piece was Scheherazade. The quiet encounter and home-coming Ann Veronica and she had contemplated was entirely disorganized by this misadventure; there were no adequate explanations, and after they had settled things at Ann Veronica’s lodgings, they reached home in the early afternoon estranged and depressed, with headaches and the trumpet voice of the indomitable Kitty Brett still ringing in their ears. Of course, girls repeat phrases and opinions of which they cannot possibly understand the meaning. ” Annabel yawned. He had heard me sing—the fool thought himself in love with me. \" \"Good night, Mom.
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