Beneath the serene unconcern of Ann Veronica’s face was a boiling tumult. She wanted to turn him. Latterly I’ve been doing things. ‘When you’re my age, you’ll be just as hardheaded. “What you have said is a ridiculous falsehood,” she declared scornfully. Somehow her walk home with him had been transmogrified into a melodramatic rejection, a slamming. Give me my pistol and my dagger.
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