I want you to be my lover. “And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend. Before our marriage there will be no life between you and the estates. You are restless, aggressive, critical with all the crude unthinking criticism of youth. Charvill’s fury was burning out. Outside the door he turned and stared at the panels.
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