The pause lengthened, and he had the satisfaction of seeing despair melt the set mockery of Spurlock's mouth. “Well?” she said, sitting down again. She saw his face change, how he regretted. “And think, think”—her voice sank —“of the horrible coarseness!” “What coarseness?” said Ann Veronica. The way it had happened was stupid, absurd. ’ ‘To you,’ she said angrily. Ramage!” she began, and his mouth sealed hers and his breath was mixed with her breath. His arm entered the round window of the white haze of her vision, his wrist spouting blood in currents, dripping on the stone floor. A man’s children nowadays are not his own.
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