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Ann Veronica blushed. “Have to take your turn,” he remarked laconically. " "Ay, but it is strange how much it resembles somebody for whom it's not intended. He had had five children at irregular intervals, of whom Ann Veronica was the youngest, so that as a parent he came to her perhaps a little practised and jaded and inattentive; and he called her his “little Vee,” and patted her unexpectedly and disconcertingly, and treated her promiscuously as of any age between eleven and eight-and-twenty. It’s my choice, Lucy. "You forget that you promised me a kiss the last time you were here. The Wastrel—as we call him—cannot play when he's sober; hands too shaky.
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