” She gasped. ” “I think so,” said Ann Veronica, and colored. ” “In the Middle Ages, from what you’re telling me. ” She departed from the couch and went upstairs to find John. She will tell you all the story while I am gone. The thought of beauty became an obsession. It came to her like a dear thing rediscovered, that she loved Capes. What hotel should she go to? If she told a cabman to drive to an hotel, any hotel, what would he do—or say? He might drive to something dreadfully expensive, and not at all the quiet sort of thing she required. The supreme effect for Ann Veronica was its surpassing relevance; it made every other atmosphere she knew seem discursive and confused.
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