“You mean to tell me” he said, “that you have a lover? While I have been keeping you! Yes—keeping you!” This view of life he hurled at her as if it were an offensive missile. “That he should be in the same world with me!” said Ann Veronica, reduced to reading the list of good things the British Tea-Table Company had priced for its patrons. The music confused and distracted her, and made her struggle against a feeling of intoxication. The signs of the shops were carried to incredible distances. He had pictured her, if indeed she had ever had the courage to do this thing, as sitting alone, convulsed with guilty fear, starting at her own shadow, a slave to constant terror. Before our marriage there will be no life between you and the estates. I did not reckon upon—him. Cheveney walked away with a shrug of the shoulders.
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