"Yes, I think I do. Your people don't approve of me. You've always known it and that's why you didn't tell them. Why did you pretend it was any other? I wouldn't have minded the truth."
"No, because you would scarcely recognize their existence as human beings. They are of the 'spiritual bourgeoisie.' They are of the great, spiritual middle class you despise so much."
Roger flushed. Anne went on:
"But they are my people. I live with them. I don't share their standards. My brain despises their outlook on life. I can't help knowing what their reactions will be. My father is bigoted and selfish and, on the whole, rather mean. Sometimes, he is jolly and kind and a little more tolerant, usually when a bet goes well. He is a clerk, a corporation clerk, in body and soul. But he is a victim, too, of the smallness of his own soul, just as much as the men who can't get work are victims of 'the system.' And mamma——" Anne held her voice steady by an effort, "I wouldn't hurt mamma for the world, or make things more uncomfortable for her. In time——" but the tears welled over and ran down Anne's cheeks.
Roger gripped her hand. "Don't, Princess, please don't. I was a brute. I do understand, better than you think. But I hate meeting you round in parks and public places, sneaking as if there were something to be ashamed of. Last night, I wanted to sit close to you, in some warm, comfortable room, like a human being."
Anne's lips moved in a warped smile. "You wouldn't have sat in a comfortable room. It's one of the ugliest rooms I have ever seen. There's a crayon portrait of a brother papa always hated and won't have removed, and they would have watched us through hideous chenille portières. That is, mamma would; papa would have pretended to read, in a chair fixed so he could see us in the mantel glass. It would have been ghastly."
Roger smiled, but his fingers held Anne's more firmly. "My high-strung, beauty-loving Princess. We'll never have an ugly thing in the house, will we?"
Anne shook her head. "No. We'll have nothing in it at all, rather than that."
"Oh, it won't be as bad as that," Roger laughed.
"I don't care, Roger. Really I——"