Ann Veronica had had some training at the Tredgold College in disentangling threads from confused statements, and she had a curious persuasion that in all this fluent muddle there was something—something real, something that signified. His attraction for her was now written plainly on his freckled face, revealed by the many drinks he had imbibed. "One last embrace. He had brought her here to this place—where her freedom was curtailed even more than at the convent so that a cavalier was very much needed—and only on Monday came again. ‘I have only borrowed it. I'll leave these out, and to-morrow you can read them through. One married as he wished and one against his wishes, and now here was Ann Veronica, his little Vee, discontented with her beautiful, safe, and sheltering home, going about with hatless friends to Socialist meetings and art-class dances, and displaying a disposition to carry her scientific ambitions to unwomanly lengths. He kept at it even on those nights when the monsoon began to break with heavy storms and he had to weight down with stones everything on his table.
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