’ ‘Aye, but she don’t reckon to militiamen. ’ ‘I don’t want to think it,’ he said, and she thrilled to the savagery in his tone. That’s how things are; that’s the order of the world. Already the warm sun was drawing from the pines their delicious odour. “I’ve been looking out for you,” he said. 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.
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