’ ‘Comment?’ she demanded with some heat. Kneebone begged him to take the prisoner into the churchyard. Then her eyes flashed. The great untrodden world was before her still, into which no one can pass alone. He had been gone entirely one day, for yesterday afternoon he had departed from Remenham House, and she had waited with patience like a saint, and now it was again the afternoon. It is for that reason that this novel begins with her there, and neither earlier nor later, for it is the history of this crisis and its consequences that this novel has to tell. Babies and females have got to keep hold of somebody or go under—anyhow, for the next few generations. He would raise her up once again, ply her with silks and jewels again, all of the accoutrements of the new generation: the cars, the toys, the restaurants, and the prestige. “And think, think”—her voice sank —“of the horrible coarseness!” “What coarseness?” said Ann Veronica.
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