" "Without further fee?" inquired the knight. \"His name is John Diedermayer. ” He did not look at her. “What are you doing?” He cried. He had brought the shrubs down from Syria, and, strangely enough, they had prospered. Remember, in your story—look at it, scattered everywhere!—that line? We arrive at true happiness only through labyrinths of misery. You can’t do that sort of thing unless you do it over religion, and there’s no religion in me—of that sort—worth a rap. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious.
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