Brendon looked across the room at her thoughtfully. "I have nothing. ” Anna shook hands with Brendon—a young man also, but older and more selfpossessed than Sydney Courtlaw. ’ Melusine knew it to be true. I cannot turn into a bat. When I absorb a fact, my brain weighs the fact carefully and stores it away. Give us that—” Ann Veronica came in with a certain disregard of Miss Miniver. The girl in the forward chair raised herself a little, the better to see the gorgeous blue palanquin of the dimly visible bride. “What have I been all this time?” she asked herself, and answered, “Just stark egotism, crude assertion of Ann Veronica, without a modest rag of religion or discipline or respect for authority to cover me!” It seemed to her as though she had at last found the touchstone of conduct. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male.
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