“But,” he said, “you do not blame me altogether?” She rose to her feet. You don’t understand the fix I am in. He has no imagination, no real generosity. “We are clerks in the same bank. “He tried it. It was no use. He was unusually absurd and ready, and all the time it seemed to Ann Veronica as a delightful possibility, as a thing not indeed to be entertained seriously, but to be half furtively felt, that he was being so agreeable because she had come back again. “Beats me. She took the piece of paper and unfolded it in the safety of her lap.
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