“No lecturing, Anna!” she exclaimed. "I'll admit that. “Not like it’s your fault if you wake up one day and decide you hanker for a nice piece of ass, a ten-minute tumble. ‘That,’ he said stonily, ‘is yet another point over which we fell out. ” She changed the subject abruptly. He waved a hand toward the sea. It was one of the most educational disillusionments in Ann Veronica’s career. He saw what he had done only as it related to Ruth. Wood. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. “Don’t they look like a pair of young lovers sleeping off a tryst?” He observed. Spurlock slept on. Lucy? Come 177 on out.
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