But it was only when that damned scoundrel nearly spitted you in the chapel—’ He broke off and, to her intense satisfaction she saw he was not as much in command of himself as he would have her believe. The bump was coarse and didn’t feel right. Mr. . With his arms bare, the neckband of his shirt tucked in, he laboured. Ann Veronica glanced at the mirror to discover a flushed and dishevelled disorder. She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis.
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