” Ann Veronica sat at the foot of the sufferer’s bed, while Teddy Widgett, being something of an athlete, occupied the only bed-room chair—a decadent piece, essentially a tripod and largely a formality—and smoked cigarettes, and tried to conceal the fact that he was looking all the time at Ann Veronica’s eyebrows. Only I am not an acquaintance at all. She read on and on, now thrilled by the swiftly moving drama, now enraptured by the tender passages of love.
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