“You see,” said Ann Veronica, with the air of one who shares a difficulty, “I’ve promised to go. You need only answer me truthfully and you have nothing to fear. Every home is a little recess, a niche, out of the world of business and competition, in which women and the future shelter. Was he your natural father? Did you know him?” “No, I didn’t. He was in misery; he was paying for last night's debauch. If such a thing in connexion with him had been possible they would have declared that he was in a towering rage. ” She breathed an inner sigh of relief. His glasses were gone. 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. Nothing would stop her, and she was prepared to face the consequences.
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