And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. As she neared the bottom of the dip in Piccadilly she saw a woman approaching her from the opposite direction—a tall woman who at the first glance seemed altogether beautiful and fine. “Your little flag of pride must flutter down with the rest of them, Ann Veronica. And then there came for both of them at least a temporary awakening. " At this moment, Saint Sepulchre's clock struck six. During the week, her uniform was the blue and white scrubs of a nurse, the job she had suffered at for twenty-seven years. One has to train one’s self not to.
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