“Let us walk across the Park at least,” he said to Ann Veronica. “Why should one pretend? “Think of all the beauty in the world that is covered up and overlaid. A few yards further off something grey, inert, was lying, a huddled-up heap of humanity twisted into a strange unnatural shape. Narrow little beady brown eyes, and she’s got big eyebrows like dead caterpillars. I met a Hindu a few weeks ago who was a Harvard man.
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