It seemed to her the last desperate attack upon the universe that would not let her live as she desired to live, that penned her in and controlled her and directed her and disapproved of her, the same invincible wrappering, the same leaden tyranny of a universe that she had vowed to overcome after that memorable conflict with her father at Morningside Park. "She travelled alone; and she is the purest woman God ever permitted to inhabit the earth. You'll have it down. "Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. Very well, then. Ann Veronica had one of her flashes of insight.
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