And all the time a sort of contempt for this soft and almost sentimental feeling made her tighten her lips and frown.

She felt distrustful and sarcastic towards a mood so utterly subversive of that fetich 'Hardness,' to the unconscious worship of which she had been brought up.

To stand no sentiment or nonsense either in herself or others was the first article of faith; not to slop-over anywhere.

So that to feel as she did was almost horrible to Barbara.

Yet she could not get rid of the sensation.
With sudden recklessness she tried giving herself up to it entirely.
Undoing the scarf at her throat, she let the air play on her bared neck, and stretched out her arms as if to hug the wind to her; then, with a sigh, she got up, and walked on.