"Spare me!" he groaned, looking upwards. The love-songs of all the ages were singing in her blood, the scent of night stock from the garden filled the air, and the moths that beat upon the closed frames of the window next the lamp set her mind dreaming of kisses in the dusk. "He's about to cross the river. All the furniture was moved, all the meals were disarranged, and everybody, Ann Veronica included, appeared in new, bright costumes. Across that world was written in letters of light, “Endowment of Motherhood. I demand it as a right.
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