“I don’t care,” said Ann Veronica to the darkness; “I’ll fight it. He saw the expression on the girl's face and understood what it signified, that it was the reflected pattern of his own. 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. “She must look forward to Italy.
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