” The wedding-breakfast was for Ann Veronica a spectacle of the unreal consuming the real; she liked that part very well, until she was carelessly served against her expressed wishes with mayonnaise. It was as if she had grown right past her father into something older and of infinitely wider outlook, as if he had always been unsuspectedly a flattened figure, and now she had discovered him from the other side. ” “The posters at least,” Anna answered quietly, “I have some claim to. They got on wonderfully well together. I really cared for him a little, but I am absolutely determined not to marry for some time at any rate. Anna passed serenely out. A jar of pink roses upon a tiny table seemed to gain an extra delicacy of colour from the sombre curtains behind.
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