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The Pursuit 425 XXV. The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. Either ignorant of the accident, or heedless of it, the foremost horseman pursued his way without even turning his head. They went on talking in the train—it seemed to her father a slight want of deference to him—and he listened and pretended to read the Times. She was too wrapped up in the sheer joy of playing again; it had 201 been intimate, masturbatory. And besides—We’re going to live, Ann Veronica! Oh, the things we’ll do, the life we’ll lead! There’ll be trouble in it at times—you and I aren’t going to run without friction.
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