I must practise what I preach. “I’m ready,” said Ann Veronica, closing her microscope-box with a click, and looking for one brief instant up the laboratory. Without a single ornament about her neck, or hair, wearing the plainest of black gowns, out of which her shoulders shone gleaming white, she was easily the most noticeable and the most distinguished-looking woman in the room. It runs about gayly, it romps, it is bright and pretty, it has enormous quantities of soft hair and more power of expressing affection than its brothers. The class laughed, a few putting their hands to their foreheads in a military salute to mock her. She stuffed her violin in its case and rushed into the hallway towards John, who stood outside of 118 with his arms crossed. But this was not a season in which to be needlessly scrupulous.
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