The tree-lined streets were silent except for the sporadic revving of glass packs down Church Avenue. ” “Agreed,” said Ann Veronica. ” He followed up a line of thought. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. It was from Brendon. She took a deep breath. Your old rooms are there, if you choose.
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