“One doesn’t want to turn the whole thing into a mere sex antagonism. . . ” Ennison nodded. They walked past his old jungle gym set to a hilly park that dwelled sleepily beyond his house. Wood then led the way up a rather high and, according to modern notions, incommodious flight of steps, and introduced his guest to a neat parlour, the windows of which were darkened by pots of flowers and creepers. “You silly wimmin,” he said over and over again throughout the hearing, plucking at his blotting-pad with busy hands. Notwithstanding her emaciation, her features still retained something of a pleasing expression, and might have been termed beautiful, had it not been for that repulsive freshness of lip denoting the habitual dram-drinker; a freshness in her case rendered the more shocking from the almost livid hue of the rest of her complexion. Of course there were goats. That did not sound like the name the young man had offered in the tower of the water-clock. These convulsions occurred when Ann Veronica was about twelve. After class his routine was unchanged.
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