ToC That night Jack walked to Paddington, and took up his quarters at a small tavern, called the Wheat-sheaf, near the green. "All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. For all that, it is folly. Ann Veronica, with a sigh at the cost of hospitality, made a hasty negotiation for an extra tea and for a fire in the groundfloor apartment, and preened herself carefully for the interview. Too late, alas, to stop the disastrous marriage. " And she burst into a wild hysterical laugh. “Was it really only this afternoon that I met you in St. ‘What Gerald wants with you has me beat.
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