” Ann Veronica was about to reply, when he went on, with a still more deadly quiet: “I am not here to bandy words with you. ” She rolled over on her face, and stuffed her fingers in her ears to shut out the rhythm from her mind. ” “Well, he was presumptuous,” Annabel remarked, “and he wasn’t nice about it. Imbecile. . ’ ‘For God’s sake,’ protested his junior. I will be as silent as the grave. Ann Veronica’s experiences of men had been among more stable types—Teddy, who was always absurd; her father, who was always authoritative and sentimental; Manning, who was always Manning. You're in luck to-night, widow.
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