” Ann Veronica sat at the foot of the sufferer’s bed, while Teddy Widgett, being something of an athlete, occupied the only bed-room chair—a decadent piece, essentially a tripod and largely a formality—and smoked cigarettes, and tried to conceal the fact that he was looking all the time at Ann Veronica’s eyebrows. A phase of mental activity that men called courage: to summon at will this energy which barred the ingress of the long cold fingers of fear, which cleared the throat of stuffiness and kept the glance level and ever forward. I believed that she was my wife, or she would have been safe from me. He filled his pipe slowly. “H’m!” he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage. "Won't you take these?" For a space he merely stared at her, perhaps wondering if she were real.
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