” Chapter X THE TRAGEDY OF AN APPETITE Anna, notwithstanding her quiet clothes, a figure marvellously out of accord with her surroundings, sat before a small marble-topped table at a crowded A. It was a sickening process, and the sucking sound was sure to wake up Ray’s mother. Perhaps her odd beauty—and that too was natural—stirred these thoughts into being. He could not understand how men could live ignoring this one predominant interest, this wonderful research into personality and the possibilities of pleasing, these complex, fascinating expeditions that began in interest and mounted to the supremest, most passionate intimacy. “I do not know what you mean,” he said, “but if you are referring to any little coolness since our marriage let us never speak of it again. Sooner or later we’ll certainly do something to clean those prisons you told me about—limewash the underside of life. Your family has not sullied itself by dabbling in it, at least not 173 from what I know, so now is not the time to begin.
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