“I don’t love him,” said Ann Veronica, getting a gleam. " "By no means," rejoined Wood, hastily. But don't let my name frighten you. ‘Sleeping like a baby, he is. ” She could have handled ten times the weight, and hoisted him on her back and carried him too. They seemed the most wrapped things in all Ann Veronica’s wrappered world. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. Only the night before, in the dining room of the Hong-Kong Hotel, she had watched him empty glass after glass of whisky, and shudder and shudder. “Looooo-ceeeeee!!” He yelled, sounding like Desi Arnaz. " "I see. Wary they might be. Never. Hang it, there must be something about her that will give it away.
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