Now, you and I can gossip at a gate, and Honi soit qui mal y pense. The terror faded from her eyes. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. Why don’t you wait and see if you do truly love me, then I can believe you? Then I know I am worth waiting for. ” It was, Ann Veronica felt, at once absurd and extraordinarily right. “To the best of my belief, I have never seen the man in my life.
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