Their soft, voluptuous bodies wove among each other to the faint notes of a lyre. She became at times an embodiment for Ann Veronica of all that made the suffrage movement defective and unsatisfying. There was a wall; she was always encountering it; the one time she was able to break through this wall was when the part in his hair was crooked. She would then hear his feet pounding up the steps and he would burst into whatever room she was sitting in and say, “There she is! My wife! Hiding her beauty from the world!” He would then run to her, grab her book or embroidery and unceremoniously toss them to the floor. pgdp.
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