” She interrupted as Ann Veronica was about to speak again, with a bright contagious hopefulness. She went about in a negligent November London that had become very dark and foggy and greasy and forbidding indeed, and tried to find that modest but independent employment she had so rashly assumed. ‘Certainly, if I was a nun, I know of many good names. He had not been successful as the world counted success; the fat bank-account, the filled waiting room of which he had once dreamed, had never materialized except in the smoke of his evening pipe. She cried and sobbed in fits.
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