Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. ‘A devil is just what you are. By and by—as the paroxysm subsided and he became motionless—she stole back to the bungalow to wait. ” She removed some posters from a chair, and seated herself coolly. John was acutely focused upon her now, just as she had wanted him to be. Part of his head was swathed in linen bandages. In Old Palace Yard everybody ran. Her stomach growled, and she clutched at it in reaction, haphazardly observing that the gown had been changed to silk. 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. "Drink this," cried Jonathan, handing her the cup. " "He shuddered when he drank.
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