The flush deck was without wells. ’ ‘I beg your pardon?’ said Miss Froxfield frostily. ” Anna laid down her serviette. Her fingers passed over a cunningly wrought surface of wood, with just the correct amount of protrusion, the precise colours of dyed leather, and cleverly gilded surfaces and neatly painted lettering. Why should she trouble herself over that young fool, who was nothing to her; who, when he eventually sobered up, would not be able to recognize her, or if he did, as something phantasmagorical? Perhaps he should not apply the term "fool"; "unfortunate" might be the more accurate application. “Do not be frightened, dear,” she said. The word "criticism" had no concrete meaning to her then; no more than "compromise. We can’t afford to turn our women, our Madonnas, our Saint Catherines, our Mona Lisas, our goddesses and angels and fairy princesses, into a sort of man. ” “You meant to say ‘morbid’.
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