Explore "The Well of Loneliness" by Radclyffe Hall on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
In her vast drawing-room so beautifully proportioned, Anna would sit with her pride sorely wounded, dreading the thinly veiled questions of her neighbours, dreading the ominous silence of her husband. And the old aversion she had felt for her child would return upon her like the unclean spirit who gathered to himself seven others more wicked, so that her last state was worse than her first, and at times she must turn away her eyes from Stephen.
Thus tormented, she grew less tactful with her husband, and now she was always plying him with questions: "But why can't you tell me what Stephen said to you, Philip, that evening when she went to your study?"