“Well, I have said what I had to say, stumblingly and badly, and baldly. ” Ann Veronica said something about a general change of ideas. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. She opened the window, for the night was mild, and sat on the floor with her chin resting upon the window-sill. It was her past now, not Annabel’s. Now, abruptly, they were real again, though very distant, and she had come to say farewell to them across one sundering year. He stared at the woman depicted thereon for a long moment, awe in his head. He winced from the wasp-like sting. " "Treated you like a white man there, did they?" "Like a gentleman. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male.
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