Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. " Her son complied, and sat down upon the patch-work coverlet beside her. All at once he saw a way out of the threatening doldrums. She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. You're on the way to big things.
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