“Don’t you ever look ahead, Ann?”
“No. What’s the good? Whenever I do, it only frightens me.”
“Are you frightened of anything now?”
“A little.”
They had reached their room and she had begun to wriggle out of her clothes.
“I don’t like your being frightened, my dear. There’s nothing can hurt us, and being hurt is no great thing.”
“All in the day’s work, eh? Oh, well. Some things. But, don’t you see, I think I’m going to be like Rita.”
“Ann!”
She looked at him queerly, almost maliciously.