I wanted to speak to you first. I suppose that’s the gist of the whole thing. What had urged her to wrench loose and fly was the guarding instinct of the good woman. 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. She attended to that, and then dismissed it as unimportant. The cry was echoed by twenty different voices. She has never done a really ignoble thing that I know of— never. “I’m ready,” said Ann Veronica, closing her microscope-box with a click, and looking for one brief instant up the laboratory. ‘Difficult, I grant you.
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