’ Was there a careful note in her voice? Gerald gave no sign, keeping his own tone light. Her anger died and she eyed him. “And think, think”—her voice sank —“of the horrible coarseness!” “What coarseness?” said Ann Veronica. Every home is a little recess, a niche, out of the world of business and competition, in which women and the future shelter. . Well, come back in half an hour. The girl’s eyes never left his face. Pramlay received them in the pretty chintz drawing-room, which opened by French windows on the trim garden, with its croquet lawn, its tennis-net in the middle distance, and its remote rose alley lined with smart dahlias and flaming sunflowers. “You look more like your old self when you smile,” he remarked.
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