I believed I was strong enough to go on in silence; but I'm human like everybody else. “It’s a flabby, loose-willed world we have to face. Oh, you cannot escape from it. It was a young girl who overheard me when I was on my third shopkeeper who answered my question. Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing. She could feel his eyes surreptiously scanning her backside. What would happen to her? Would her soul be shaken, twisted, hypnotized?—as it had been those other times? Music—that took out of her the sense of reality, whirled her into the clouds, that gave to her will the directless energy of a chip of wood on stormy waters. He began a jerky, broken conversation that lasted until they reached the station, and left her puzzled at its drift and meaning. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. Then he would turn his face to her, and she would have to think of herself in his eyes. It would have been the right idea, had Ruth been other than what she was. But you’ve got to lend me forty pounds.
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