She took it for granted Ann Veronica wore stays—mild stays, perhaps, but stays, and thought no more of the matter. The steps, even the pavements, were invaded by little knots of loungers driven outside by the unusual heat of the evening, most of them in evening dress, or what passed for evening dress in Montague Street. He allowed his voice to drip with sympathy. She loved to walk through the gardens, graced with columns that loomed overhead. And Mrs. “John,” she declared, “I must eat or die. The immense disillusionment that awaited him! The devastating disillusionment! She had a vague desire to run after him, to state her case to him, to wring some understanding from him of what life was to her. . “My Mom never gets a good night’s sleep.
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