“It is an annoyance, my friend,” she said, “not a tragedy. “But what can one do?” asked Ann Veronica. She would not look at him, would not think of him; when her mind wavered, then she muttered to herself in the darkness so as to keep hold of her generalizations. Does that boy live in some sort of personal cave? Like, I think he might even be thinking about asking you out again! That is what I think. The manager had sketched the girl's character, or rather had interpreted it, from the incidents which had happened since dinner.
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