“You understand, then,” he was saying, “you understand?” “I understand,” said Ann Veronica, tear-wet and flushed with a reciprocal passion, but standing up to him with an equality that amazed even herself, “I understand. He's an interpretative genius, if there ever was one. If ever I did meet a man I could love, I should love him”—her voice dropped again—“platonically. ’ Gerald opened his eyes at her. Ann Veronica sat firelit by her tea-tray with, quite unconsciously, the air of an expert hostess.
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