The mortal youth in him, then, was fascinated, the thinker, the poet; from all sides Ruth attacked him, innocently. He had had five children at irregular intervals, of whom Ann Veronica was the youngest, so that as a parent he came to her perhaps a little practised and jaded and inattentive; and he called her his “little Vee,” and patted her unexpectedly and disconcertingly, and treated her promiscuously as of any age between eleven and eight-and-twenty. “I cannot say who he is,” said Ann Veronica, “but he is a married man. From the further end of the apartment came the low music of a violin. She felt herself getting into a corner. Women are hypocrites to the last—true only to themselves. He did his best not to grin. I need scarcely ask whether you've executed your appointed task, my dear? You're never behindhand.
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