‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. Not a word passed between them. Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. \" \"May Day. Collins, you can go now. ” Then a burst of applause. Sheppard. ” “Oh, it wasn’t that. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. ‘What has that to say to anything?’ ‘Nothing at all,’ smiled Lucy nervously.
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