She was chic, distinguished, unusual. O'Higgins eyed it thoughtfully. All through that brief but measureless space of time during which wonder kept him silent, as fear did her, she cowered there, a limp helpless object. Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing. Other phrases returned now, like echoes. He would make her rub her lips with waxes and other ointments, precursors of lipsticks.
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