There was a pint of champagne and a quart of mineral water (both taboo) at his elbow. The tired woman looked up in inquiring silence at Ann Veronica’s diffident entry. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. There are unwritten laws governing human conduct. He stopped on the curb-stone, not facing her but as if he was on his way to cross the road, and spoke to her suddenly over his shoulder. “For seven years,” said Ann Veronica, “I have been trying to keep myself from thinking about love. He looked half at her and half at the sky. Rousing himself, he went to the door.
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