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. More,’ he said, ‘but I’m told it’s the most amusing thing in London at the present time. I have read that authors are very selfish and self-centred. ‘She is constantly thinking of you,’ I said. That night, she hunted the alleyways of the old town. But for the next few days he avoided Cheveney like the plague. That dress she has on—my mother might have worn it. ‘You do not like it?’ ‘That is hardly the point. ‘Sapristi. I have squeezed three kids into it afore now. She quickened her pace, and so did he, talking at her slightly averted ear. " Here a murmur of amazement arose from the assemblage outside.
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