Anna, who had thrown aside her sealskin coat, wore a tight-fitting walking dress of some dark shade. It was a cheerful, irresponsible, shamelessly hard-up family in the key of faded green and flattened purple, and the girls went on from the High School to the Fadden Art School and a bright, eventful life of art student dances, Socialist meetings, theatre galleries, talking about work, and even, at intervals, work; and ever and again they drew Ann Veronica from her sound persistent industry into the circle of these experiences. It was Annabel’s. Other things came. Their momentary absence seemed to have worked wonders; for now the most perfect understanding appeared to subsist between them. She repeated phrases of Mrs. She had to school herself to speak the words which she knew would cut him like a knife.
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