Do you know that this becomes a habit?” “If you would only teach us all,” he murmured, “how to acquire it. There were neither texts nor rubbish on the walls, but only a stirring version of Belshazzar’s feast, a steel engraving in the early Victorian manner that had some satisfactory blacks. The bed-and table-linen were of the finest texture. He sells his daughter to a geisha or a sing-song master, and the girl is rented out until the debt is paid. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. His salary was a few paltry hundreds a year.
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