But I see now. Stanley, having pretended to linger to smoke, fled suddenly up-stairs to petrography, and when Veronica tapped he answered through the locked door, “Go away, Vee! I’m busy,” and made a lapidary’s wheel buzz loudly. There’s something—puppyish in a man’s usual attitude to women. “What are you doing?” “Nothing. Unless he has dealings with the devil, he could never have done this alone.
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