Whatever may happen to-morrow I shall be none the better for anticipating its miseries to-day. Anything else that was said she now regarded only as an aspect of or diversion from that. ” “I have heard of the Fabians,” said Ann Veronica. If I had been your companion only, and not your master, I might very well have been content to accept you for what you seem. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. ” Ann Veronica turned her back on the Michaelmas daisies, and faced toward the house with an air of a duty completed. Their conversation degenerated again and again into a strain of self-congratulation that would have irked an eavesdropper. All the fury had left her, swamped by an inexplicable flood of warmth. She calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners. The winters were terrible in cold climates, and she often had been driven to dig herself large underground pits where she waited it out like a mole in the cold months.
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