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. Afraid, no doubt, he thought grimly, that her other visitor would leave. “I mean to go to that dance!” she blubbered. For a long time even the strong pipe tobacco (with which McClintock supplied him) possessed a coconut flavour.
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