‘Don’t concern yourself, Hilary. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. I shall take to him as nat'ral as if he were my own flesh and blood afore long. There are way-stations—even terminals.
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