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. I don’t know. He walked through a wide open archway, curtained with deep-blue curtains, into the apartment that served as a reception-room. “It’s not for us to supplicate any more.
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