She could not move. "I thought as much," continued Jonathan. "But calm yourself, dear sister, or the interview will be too much for you. Practically. And I want him out of uniform. He lit a cigarette and loitered about. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. Jacques, Jacques!’ His face was white, but his eyes were open, if a trifle glazed.
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