At last some anodyne formed itself from these exercises, and, with eyelashes wet with such feeble tears as only three-o’clock-in-the-morning pathos can distil, she fell asleep. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. “Why won’t you sleep in my bed tonight, Lucia, where 80 it’s warm?” He asked her one night, teasing but mournful, as she stood in her bedroom doorway in a long white gown. ” “The explanation seems to me to be reasonably simple,” Annabel said coldly. More,’ he said, ‘but I’m told it’s the most amusing thing in London at the present time. She stared at his pleading face. No more. I applaud your prudence: it is, however, needless. But in its stead—toward morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime, appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the poet and the novelist in him. Ann Veronica found herself in the presence of the most disconcerting fact in human experience, the kindliness of people you believe to be thoroughly wrong. She was greatly heartened by doing this.
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