” Marina would drawl, Lucy invoking her mother’s face as the image of the beautiful but cruel princess Anoush. Sometimes the moon was totally eclipsed; at others, it shed a wan and ghastly glimmer over the masses rolling in the firmament. You would rather live like the scum of the earth, in that little brown hovel you call a house, in bourgeois paradise. “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.
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