On a high chair behind a raised counter the stipendiary’s substitute regarded her malevolently over his glasses. They could not have called it a fatal motor accident if he had not been dead. It wasn’t so much women as Woman that engaged his mind. You owe what I have done for you, to him, not to me. Ann Veronica loved beautiful things, and the beauty of undraped loveliness not least among them; but these were pictures that did but insist coarsely upon the roundness of women’s bodies. . For the first time that day, she was finally able to look into his face. ‘Here we go again. I burned it.
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