8. She tried to compose her thoughts, to think of the last six months, to steep herself in the calm beauty of the surroundings. So Mrs. The Night-Cellar. The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style. The man was dangerous. As time went on, she began to think Martha had been mistaken. She found herself in a phase of violent reaction against the suffrage movement, a phase greatly promoted by one of those unreasonable objections people of Ann Veronica’s temperament take at times—to the girl in the next cell to her own. She became aware of the Scotch student regarding her with stupendous amazement, a tea-cup poised in one hairy hand and his faceted glasses showing a various enlargement of segments of his eye. The day is already half over.
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