Part 2 Ann Veronica Stanley was twenty-one and a half years old. “Vee,” she said, “come home. She was to fall back amongst the ruck, a young woman of talent, content perhaps to earn a scanty living by painting Christmas cards, or teaching at a kindergarten. It seemed intolerable that she should go home and admit herself beaten. But I'm resolved to see Lady Trafford. He rose at once to his feet and turned a white face upon her. Jack's mouth was coarse and large; Darrell's small and exquisitely carved, with the short, proud upper lip, which belongs to the highest order of beauty.
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