Ann Veronica’s experiences of men had been among more stable types—Teddy, who was always absurd; her father, who was always authoritative and sentimental; Manning, who was always Manning. In and out of consciousness she sailed, hearing voices from memory that she could not distinguish from reality. As a net result she had come to think of all married people much as one thinks of insects that have lost their wings, and of her sisters as new hatched creatures who had scarcely for a moment had wings. "Perhaps he means well. ‘That is settled then. He sat down on the sill of the open window, folded his arms, and stared straight before him for a long time over the wilderness of tiles and chimney-pots into a sky that was blue and empty. I don’t care! I’m glad I did. But it annoyed Ann Veronica. Parbleu, but she was a fool. “The unaccountable thing is that I wouldn’t go home to please her. She stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice, and lost the thread of what she was saying.
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