“I think,” he said, “that you have found the real home of the lotus-eaters. It was not the type of household where one could come and go at all hours, for this she was glad. On his third visit to the island she had surprised him, that is, she had glanced up suddenly and caught the look of the beast in his eyes. It was a cheerful, irresponsible, shamelessly hard-up family in the key of faded green and flattened purple, and the girls went on from the High School to the Fadden Art School and a bright, eventful life of art student dances, Socialist meetings, theatre galleries, talking about work, and even, at intervals, work; and ever and again they drew Ann Veronica from her sound persistent industry into the circle of these experiences. He took her hand and looked into her eyes and spoke, divided against himself, in a voice that was forced and insincere.
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