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. He refused. ‘Never mind that now. She obeyed, extending her arm. Nor was he long in making it available. Now go. Marina had retired to bed, drinking wine slowly, sleeping when she was not drinking. 3.
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