And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company. “I don’t know how, but I always manage to find a 164 fiddle if there is one around. Try and consider me your elder brother, or an old family friend, whichever you like best.
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