CHAPTER XIV. "I am very wicked," she said. . ” She did not wait for Ann Veronica’s reply. And the fact that it was dressed in riding gear had fooled her into thinking it was her own image. What of that?" "Vot 'o that!" echoed Sharples, peevishly: "Everythin'. It was hard to gain weight when you hated to eat. . She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. It was an intimate smell, the unmistakable scent of him and another woman.
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