” Chapter XIV “THIS IS MY WIFE” Anna, notwithstanding her momentary fright in the middle of the day, was in high spirits. " "It is false," cried Mrs. Wood and several serving-men, all well armed, rushed into the room. The grim mockery of it!—those South Sea loafers, taking advantage of Enschede's Christianity and imposing upon him, accepting his money and medicines and laughing behind his back! No doubt they made the name a byword and a subject for ribald jest in the waterfront bars. ” Mrs. ” “You can’t be that,” said Ann Veronica, wisely. “So is Mr. “I don’t think you see,” she replied, with tears on her cheeks, and her brows knitting, “how it shames and, ah!—disgraces me—AH TISHU!” She put down the tray with a concussion on her toilet-table. Monsieur Charvill, he has not the means to choose different. She hugged Lucy, who had finished eating. “I’m not coarse—no! But I’ve got no purity of mind—no real purity of mind. “You blithering idiot!” he exclaimed. Sheppard, he turned to quit the churchyard. It was a cheerful, irresponsible, shamelessly hard-up family in the key of faded green and flattened purple, and the girls went on from the High School to the Fadden Art School and a bright, eventful life of art student dances, Socialist meetings, theatre galleries, talking about work, and even, at intervals, work; and ever and again they drew Ann Veronica from her sound persistent industry into the circle of these experiences. Her heart ached; and that puzzled her.
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