At Christmas he gave her a set of a small edition of Meredith’s novels, very prettily bound in flexible leather, being guided in the choice of an author, as he intimated, rather by her preferences than his own. “My dear,” she began, with an affectionate hand on Ann Veronica’s shoulder, “I do SO wish you would realize how it grieves your father. I'm glad he's come to see me. I overheard them planning your assassination. It was in fact the first embrace of motherhood she had ever known. There was something holding women down, holding women back, and if it wasn’t exactly man-made law, man-made law was an aspect of it. “The Widgetts,” she said. I found it on the beach, just sitting there nestled inside a piece of driftwood.
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