“And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend. "It's a miserable weakness to be afraid of bloodshed. I shall never come back. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. Sir John heard gossip about us—about Anna the recluse, a paragon of virtue, and Annabel alias ‘Alcide’ a dancer at the cafés chantants, and concerning whom there were many stories which were false, and a few—which were true. "I should like to meet the man who would dare to gainsay it. She frowned and gripped her hands about her knees very tightly. Lonesomeness isn't my worry. She could smell his cologne underneath his collar, or perhaps his aftershave. She heard her husband’s heavy tread descending the stairs, and the wheels of his carriage as he drove off.
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