“And what on earth,” he said, “do you think the world is made of? Why do you think I have been doing things for you? The abstract pleasure of goodness? Are you one of the members of that great white sisterhood that takes and does not give? The good accepting woman! Do you really suppose a girl is entitled to live at free quarters on any man she meets without giving any return?” “I thought,” said Ann Veronica, “you were my friend. ” The corners of her lips rose along with her eyebrows. He had a blue overstuffed couch, his own television, even a computer with its own desk. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. I’m sorry Lucy.
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