“You can’t imagine,” Sydney exclaimed, “that the people downstairs will be such drivelling asses as to believe piffle like that. She found herself in a phase of violent reaction against the suffrage movement, a phase greatly promoted by one of those unreasonable objections people of Ann Veronica’s temperament take at times—to the girl in the next cell to her own. Jeez! It was about time. “I knew I should have died!” She went fast into a state of shock. He had plugged along, if not happy, at least with sound philosophy. Promise me one thing before I leave you. One married as he wished and one against his wishes, and now here was Ann Veronica, his little Vee, discontented with her beautiful, safe, and sheltering home, going about with hatless friends to Socialist meetings and art-class dances, and displaying a disposition to carry her scientific ambitions to unwomanly lengths. He was in misery; he was paying for last night's debauch. This manoeuvre was so suddenly executed that it took Abraham completely by surprise.
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