’ She ended on a note of sheer frustration, clenched fists beating the air. I'm sorry. Stanley was inclined to think the censorship should be extended to the supply of what he styled latter-day fiction; good wholesome stories were being ousted, he said, by “vicious, corrupting stuff” that “left a bad taste in the mouth. She tried not to notice how much attention Martin Chen had been paying her, but he had been bold enough to speak to her the other day. “I have never seen him in my life,” she said to the official. The quiet encounter and home-coming Ann Veronica and she had contemplated was entirely disorganized by this misadventure; there were no adequate explanations, and after they had settled things at Ann Veronica’s lodgings, they reached home in the early afternoon estranged and depressed, with headaches and the trumpet voice of the indomitable Kitty Brett still ringing in their ears. You really ought not to stay here and talk to us.
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