At least, I frustrated her design in calling upon him this morning. " "What?" "We'll put those stories back into the trunk and never speak of them to him. ” Her elation teetered in mid-air for a second, then began to flutter down around her like a badly-built house of cards. I told her I was sick today and she told me to get over myself. A bowl of roses, just brought by Ann Veronica, adorned the communal dressing-table, and Ann Veronica was particularly trim in preparation for a call she was to make with her aunt later in the afternoon. “What were you trying to do?” Lucy asked. I wonder what men would say if we threw the mask aside—if we really told them what WE thought of them, really showed them what WE were.
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