” Sydney looked at her doubtfully. “Why will you not be sensible? Go back to your old life and your old friends, and forget all about Paris and this absurd delusion of yours. In the adjacent apartment Ann Veronica found a middle-aged woman with a tired face under the tired hat she wore, sitting at a desk opening letters while a dusky, untidy girl of eight-or nine-and-twenty hammered industriously at a typewriter. . Do you think that I am utterly selfish?” She raised her eyebrows. She swallowed hard. Across that world was written in letters of light, “Endowment of Motherhood. "Curiosity, I suppose," returned Jack, carelessly.
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