Part 9 The realization that she was in love flooded Ann Veronica’s mind, and altered the quality of all its topics. She was lamentably without comparisons; such few young men as she had seen—white men—had been on the beach, pitiful and terrible objects. He was also, had she known it, more than a little insincere. The same look she had often seen in the eyes of the drunken beachcombers her father had brought home, and it had not filled her with horror. She kissed Lucia’s cheeks and patted her growing belly upon rising, to which her new husband disapproved, but Lucia loved the attention and adoration. The hymnal lyrics had never stirred her; she had memorized and sung them parrotwise. The lunches were individual affairs: sandwiches, bottled olives and jam commandeered from the Victoria. When she looked into their eyes, her despair put her beyond tears.
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