CHAPTER THE THIRD THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS Part 1 Two days after came the day of the Crisis, the day of the Fadden Dance. ” Ann Veronica gave him a pallid profile. . Balanced on his nose were enormous tortoise-shell spectacles. I’ve seen him, and he doesn’t a bit understand. The inner apartment was rather gracefully furnished with a thick, fine Turkish carpet, a good brass fender, a fine old bureau, and on the walls were engravings of two young girls’ heads by Greuze, and of some modern picture of boys bathing in a sunlit pool. You must wait till supper's over. His tone changed, becoming a little more moderate. Once she had asked him: "Are you my father?" He had answered: "I am. ’ At that, a flush drenched her cheeks and she snatched her hand away. What a God-forsaken fool he was! And dimly, out there somewhere in the South Seas—the beach! Already he sensed the fascination of the inevitable; and with this fascination came the idea of haste, to get there quickly and have done. The man looked hard at him. ‘Let’s check the rest of it and then I suppose we will have to break in.
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