Gerald saw her extract something and leapt aside, calling a warning to Hilary. He held her hand in his, cupped together like a pair of shells for the rest of the hour. She hesitated. The primitive superstition of his Puritan forbears was his; and before this the buckler of his education disintegrated. “What have I been all this time?” she asked herself, and answered, “Just stark egotism, crude assertion of Ann Veronica, without a modest rag of religion or discipline or respect for authority to cover me!” It seemed to her as though she had at last found the touchstone of conduct. She let him have it all, as it was, after all, for the last time. She descended the stairs, and found herself at last in the street—alone. But she did not know what he knew, that it would always be rolling up, enlivened by suggestion, no matter how trifling. .
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