Don’t be frightened, dear. Advancing towards him, he made him a formal salutation, which was coldly returned. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. Ann Veronica loved beautiful things, and the beauty of undraped loveliness not least among them; but these were pictures that did but insist coarsely upon the roundness of women’s bodies. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. And then, as she answered nothing, “Seeing that we are lovers.
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