She was sorry for his liking her too much for his own good, but her need was too desperate to cavil at turning it to useful account. As for Mike’s observations on John’s desires to get laid, it was the pot calling the kettle black. Stanley in person. Her mouth was worthy of her face; with small, pearly-white teeth; lips glossy, rosy, and pouting; and the sweetest smile imaginable, playing constantly about them. “He is not—I don’t like him. “What have I been all this time?” she asked herself, and answered, “Just stark egotism, crude assertion of Ann Veronica, without a modest rag of religion or discipline or respect for authority to cover me!” It seemed to her as though she had at last found the touchstone of conduct.
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