And as he walked by her side they began a wrangle that was none the less pleasant to Ann Veronica because it served to banish a disagreeable preoccupation. She took some shirts, underwear, shoes, a duffel bag, and his wallet to make it look like he had gone a-traveling. “I should imagine,” he said, shaking out a copy of The Times, “that it is your brain which is addled. I want to make myself visible to you. ‘Or flew in by balloon, perhaps. Folding his arms, he placed his back against the door, and burst into a loud laugh.
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