Chapter VII
MISS PELLISSIER’S SUSPICIONS
“Anna!”
Anna kissed her sister and nodded to her aunt. She became more and more alive, not
so much to a system of ideas as to a big diffused impulse toward change, to a
great discontent with and criticism of life as it is lived, to a clamorous confusion
of ideas for reconstruction—reconstruction of the methods of business, of
economic development, of the rules of property, of the status of children, of the
clothing and feeding and teaching of every one; she developed a quite
exaggerated consciousness of a multitude of people going about the swarming
spaces of London with their minds full, their talk and gestures full, their very
clothing charged with the suggestion of the urgency of this pervasive project of
alteration. In the north they called her Manitou, in the south,
Pabothkew. "Right to a farthing. It’s all right. I am no use for a clerk,
because I do not understand shorthand. ”
“It’s a very good image,” said Ann Veronica. All through the love music of the second act, until the hunting horns of Mark
break in upon the dream, Ann Veronica’s consciousness was flooded with the
perception of a man close beside her, preparing some new thing to say to her,
preparing, perhaps, to touch her, stretching hungry invisible tentacles about her. Don’t think it was anything better than fever—or a bit beautiful.
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