“Dear John,” she whispered. He grunted a little with effort, and she realised the gilt frame must be heavy. I am something of an old fogey, Anna, I’m afraid, but if you treat me like this you will teach me to forget it. ” She blushed deeply. But the stone was slippery; and the tide, which here began to feel the influence of the fall, was running with frightful velocity. “What have I been all this time?” she asked herself, and answered, “Just stark egotism, crude assertion of Ann Veronica, without a modest rag of religion or discipline or respect for authority to cover me!” It seemed to her as though she had at last found the touchstone of conduct. She would never love him as she loved Capes, of course, but there are grades and qualities of love.
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