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. Annabel half filled her glass with wine, and taking a little folded packet from her plate, shook the contents into it. “I want to ask you a question,” she said abruptly. " And he looked at the moment as if he had lost all desire to know it.
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