Part 2 They received the guests in their pretty little hall with genuine effusion. “I have stood it for a month, Anna,” he exclaimed. That's a most damnable lie; and when she finds out, 'tis then she will not forgive. They were silent and no longer observant, being more or less exhausted by the tedious action of the chairs. 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. For fully five minutes he lay quite motionless. Or perhaps my father once.
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