Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. “No. ” “Was he divorced, do you mean?” “No, but he got himself mixed up in a divorce case. The horror of those few minutes was still with her. I have worn it for weeks and weeks. When he was done she kissed his cheek tenderly. Those I don’t mind, though, the games.
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