“Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. Insulting cries became frequent and various, but for the most part she could not understand what was said. Was the situation so desperate that he could not pack his best things? She had packed lightly, not wanting to weigh down the carriage they would travel in. Do anything to please you, Vee. She tossed her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door. "Nobody composes any more, nobody paints, nobody writes—I mean, on a par with what we've just heard. And me, I wish to know why you have seen him. I can be a gentleman. It’s kind of the World War II thing. We ourselves have been similarly circumstanced. Can't I make you understand? Perhaps it sounds cruel to you; but we women often have to be cruel defensively.
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