‘Don’t let us quarrel over your Leonardo,’ he said, summoning a faint smile. She knew that to expect more now was like anticipating a gold-mine in the garden. If Ann Veronica could have put words to that song they would have been, “Hot-blooded marriage or none!” but she was far too indistinct in this matter to frame any words at all. Their idea of maidenly innocence was just a blank white—the sort of flat white that doesn’t shine. You mustn’t go clawing after a man that doesn’t belong to you—that isn’t even interested in you. "You are a physician; you know the vagaries of men in liquor. In her ears there was a medley of sound: wailing music, rumbling tom-toms and sputtering firecrackers. That poor child, trying to escape, and not knowing how. Around him were all the evidences of plenty.
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