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” Ann Veronica looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, and decided to persist on principle. It’s so different from what one has been led to expect. How dare you use my name and sing my songs?” Anna looked at her sister in blank amazement. "It was that song that put it into my head to cut my name on the beam. He knew she was out there, he could feel it. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains.
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