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She had dreaded the beginning of this hour. He now understood her interest in Taber, as he called himself: habit, a twice-told tale. He would be so disappointed. “So it seems that I was wrong. Everybody looked askance at everybody else. ‘What, miss?’ asked Jack Kimble from behind her. How I envied Gianfrancesco on his wedding night, how I writhed in agony just thinking 171 about his intimacies with you! Then you became pregnant, and there he was, posturing and gloating like the rest of the family, my divinations of a boy in your womb pronounced. “You’re not a virgin, are you?” It was as much an accusation as a question. No; the future was not so dark; there was a bit of dawn visible. A woman’s shoe lay on the threadbare carpeting. “Very well,” said Ann Veronica, with an air of concluding the discussion. O'Higgins was all that the doctor had imagined a detective to be: a bulky policeman in civilian clothes. For the past four weeks mirrors had been her delight, a new toy. But it was her proof. I once might have married you for your beauty,—now I marry you for your wealth.
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