Perhaps Gerald was not as clothheaded as he had thought. It presented itself in the likeness of a great, gray, dull world—a brutal, superstitious, confused, and wrong-headed world, that hurt people and limited people unaccountably. He wants you so, he is still a virgin. “The first person you love, Ann Veronica, is yourself—get hold of that! The soul you have to save is Ann Veronica’s soul. Fresh ground, no chicory, and all the rest of it. I suppose it is the mirrors and decorations. “We have,” he said, “to be the utmost friends. Oh, I think I understand, Annabel. Jolly nose! the bright rubies that garnish thy tip Are dug from the mines of canary; And to keep up their lustre I moisten my lip With hogsheads of claret and sherry.
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