’ She bit her lip, and then turning her face away, emitted another sigh. After all, she found herself reflecting, behind her aunt’s complacent visage there was a past as lurid as any one’s—not, of course, her aunt’s own personal past, which was apparently just that curate and almost incredibly jejune, but an ancestral past with all sorts of scandalous things in it: fire and slaughterings, exogamy, marriage by capture, corroborees, cannibalism! Ancestresses with perhaps dim anticipatory likenesses to her aunt, their hair less neatly done, no doubt, their manners and gestures as yet undisciplined, but still ancestresses in the direct line, must have danced through a brief and stirring life in the woady buff. They drove around town that night in his Buick convertible. “I don’t see that his being a good sort matters. She led him up the long hall solemnly. For you know that I have made up my mind to dig a little way into life single-handed. And you will. “I see the difficulty.
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