The idea that he held in his arms the girl whom he had once so passionately loved, and for whom he still retained an ardent but hopeless attachment, almost overcame him. ‘To read and write, of course, and to sew. You have darkened your eyebrows, you have even changed your style of dress. She knew the significance: the red corpuscle was being burnt out by the fires of alcohol. ‘Oh, Jacques, I cannot forgive myself!’ ‘Never you fret, miss,’ he uttered at once in a faint voice. “No you don’t!” said Ann Veronica, and walked out at a brisk and businesslike pace toward the house.
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