Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. Wood, sharply. Her depression since the “accident” had possessed her, she no longer cared how she looked as her beauty helped her not. . Yet, stay! There is one thing I wish you to do. She tried to imagine the collective effect of the Fadden Ball; she had never seen a fancy-dress gathering in her life. "Why did I want it under my pillow?" he asked. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations. Mere formality. He will wish to have his fears laid to rest.
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