Ann Veronica had come down thinking of nothing in the world but her inflexible resolution to go to the dance in the teeth of all opposition. She reflected upon that with a thrill of terror that was also, somehow, in some faint remote way, gleeful. “He just wants to get laid, you know. " "You'd better hold your peace, my lad," observed Jonathan, in a menacing tone. In the old days he had been something of an athlete—a runner, an oarsman, and a crack at tennis. Pull yourself together, Annabel! I must have the truth.
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