She attempted by a sheer act of will to end the scene, to will herself out of it anywhere. In the twilight he had ceased to be a person one could tackle and shame; he had become something more general, a something that crawled and sneaked toward her and would not let her alone. He reappeared in street clothes, his cropped hair not even damp from the shower, fresh-faced and sweetsmelling. “We may just as well have our talk afterwards,” she said, “and I need not keep poor Mr. But I don’t care; I haven’t a spark of shame. But, no. Anna merely glanced at the coarse, flushed features, and at once shook her head. ’ Gerald tutted. Part 4 MY DEAR VEE, he wrote.
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