When she came to, she was lying with her head in Martha’s lap, and a livid bruise was forming at the point of a raging headache. Though I’ll wager she used this passage, and we certainly ought to investigate it. ‘Up, Jacques, up,’ she ordered. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. It was as if she had grown right past her father into something older and of infinitely wider outlook, as if he had always been unsuspectedly a flattened figure, and now she had discovered him from the other side. You are alone in the world, you have no one save yourself to consider.
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