After all, she found herself reflecting, behind her aunt’s complacent visage there was a past as lurid as any one’s—not, of course, her aunt’s own personal past, which was apparently just that curate and almost incredibly jejune, but an ancestral past with all sorts of scandalous things in it: fire and slaughterings, exogamy, marriage by capture, corroborees, cannibalism! Ancestresses with perhaps dim anticipatory likenesses to her aunt, their hair less neatly done, no doubt, their manners and gestures as yet undisciplined, but still ancestresses in the direct line, must have danced through a brief and stirring life in the woady buff. He must be a sly fox to get out of the Mint without my knowledge. It would be an ice storm by midnight if it did not let up. She drew up a chair and sat down, putting her palm on the damp, cold forehead. It was a beautiful place that she had found, a round cave by a small stream. Do you see why I have hidden the terrible things from you? I chose you because you are my perfect mate. The Magdalene. ” Ann Veronica had remained standing while her aunt spoke.
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