” Ann Veronica made no answer. During the previous night he had been restless; and in the lonely dragging hours his thoughts had raced in an endless circle—action without progress. One day I can be a Gothic chick, and the next day I’ll be Hitler Youth. “Don’t you understand? It is I whom you cared for in Paris, not Anna. He too was flushed and ruffled; one side of his collar had slipped from its stud and he held a hand to the corner of his jaw. And yet—he thought of the supper party where he had met Annabel Pellissier, the stories about her, his own few minutes’ whispered lovemaking! He was a self-contained young man, but his cheeks grew hot at the thought of the things which it had seemed quite natural to say to her then, but which he knew very well would have been instantly resented by the girl whom he had just left. Her steps slowed.
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