“You are developing far too retentive a memory for praises,” said Ann Veronica. It seems to me exactly what is wanted. Mike answered the door while still toweling his hands dry. Ann Veronica’s experiences of men had been among more stable types—Teddy, who was always absurd; her father, who was always authoritative and sentimental; Manning, who was always Manning. “Does he ever ask about me?” She asked, feeling like a cuckolded old maid. “I wouldn’t have been without this trip for worlds.
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