” He read it in winter in the evening after dinner, and Ann Veronica associated it with a tendency to monopolize the lamp, and to spread a very worn pair of dappled fawn-skin slippers across the fender. Hill would have followed her, but Mrs. ’ Melusine jumped up, full of new hope, all the earlier clouds vanishing from her horizon. Ruth, without suspecting it, had fallen upon a fundamental truth: that each and every book fitted into the scheme of human moods and intelligence. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. ” “It’s Shari’s work. ” “They know you better,” he declared. I begin to understand Jane Austen and chintz covers and decency and refinement and all the rest of it. But her cries, instead of moving her assailant's compassion, only added to his fury. He himself had deadened the sound by closing the door. The weather harmonized with their feelings.
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