Whenever ecstasy— any kind of ecstasy—filled her heart to bursting, these physical expressions eased the pressure. This at once thrilled her and worried her. “Isn’t the question more complicated than that?” said Ann Veronica. Each one had been different from the others, each had had a quality all its own, a distinctive freshness, a distinctive beauty. Instead of passing on, as Jack expected, these persons stopped opposite the cage, when one of them, as he judged from the sound, for he did not dare to look out of his hiding place, dismounted. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers.
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