Her patience was waning fast. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. ” “That is why they hissed me, then?” “Of course. I can’t do it even decently myself, and I dare not run the risk of ruining all my clothes. Ruth stared into the painted face, now sundrily cracked by the coursing tears. Miss Mary to the life, I said, and so she is. “They told me D,” said Ann Veronica. ’ ‘Merci,’ she sighed and, surrendering at last to his oft-proffered aid, allowed her head to droop onto his chest. She took refuge in beating her pillow and inventing insulting epithets for herself. ’ ‘But Gérard knows. 167 “True love is forever, isn’t it?” It was something a child would say, a phrase she had seen scratched on bathroom walls and maple trees, but it made her sad.
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