every Sunday at six in the evening
She crushed a pearl in her pocket handkerchief and held it to her nostrils . The pain left her . She lay still . And every Sunday at six in the evening , or nine -LRB- he varied the hour to escape suspicion -RRB- , Jerrold came to Anne . In the weeks before Maisie 's coming and after , Anne 's happiness was perfect , intense and secret like the bliss of a saint in ecstasy , of genius contemplating its finished work . In giving herself to Jerrold she had found reality . She gave herself without shame and without remorse , or any fear of the dangerous risks they ran .