She slid her cheek down the tweed sleeve of his coat. . I'll have no such toast drunk at my table!" "It's the king's birthday," urged the woollen draper. ” He said. They talked across their meal in an easy and friendly manner about Ann Veronica’s affairs. But after all, what did it matter whether she had secrets or not? To him she was not a woman but a symbol; and one did not investigate the antecedents of symbols. He laid her on their old bed and kissed her from head to toe. “And aren’t there fees to pay at the Imperial College?” her aunt was saying—a disagreeable question. “Perhaps,” he said, “I have been to blame. That he should pay forty pounds to help this girl who preferred another man was no less in his eyes than a fraud and mockery that made her denial a maddening and outrageous disgrace to him.
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