There is a button loose on that coat under your pillow. The telegram reminded Ann Veronica that she had no place for interviews except her bed-sitting-room, and she sought her landlady and negotiated hastily for the use of the ground floor parlor, which very fortunately was vacant. But he dismissed that because then she would ask her lover and not him all these things. In addition, the Fadden Dance business, all out of proportion, occupied the whole foreground of her thoughts and threw a color of rebellion over everything. And yet, often when alone, he wondered: had McClintock been wrong, or had she ceased to care in that way? The possibility that she no longer cared should have filled him with unalloyed happiness, whereas it depressed him, cut the natural vanity of youth into shreds and tatters. She hoped the lights would become hot enough to melt her into the floor. Ann Veronica looked down at her fingers on the claret-colored table-cloth. I thought then perhaps you didn’t care, that you were like so many of them. "Good work. Earles thinks I am a little mad, and between ourselves I am not sure about it myself.
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