" "Meaning that I don't belong anywhere, in heaven or on earth?" "Meaning that you must cut off the wing or grow another to mate it. Is there?” “Nothing,” said Ann Veronica, with a radiant face. There was a lapse of time, an interval of blackness; then he found his hand in hers and she was leading him at a run up the side of the mountain. “And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend. She wondered occasionally why his mind needed so much distraction. Wood from pressing his suit long ago.
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