In this hour its colossal selfishness never occurred to him. ” “Couldn’t I make a treaty?” Ann Veronica thought, and could not see any possible treaty that would leave it open for her to have quasi-surreptitious dinners with Ramage or go on walking round the London squares discussing Socialism with Miss Miniver toward the small hours. The door was opened for her by a weary-looking youth in a striped jacket several sizes too large for him. The house was invisible from the road, and yet enormous once within view. Ann Veronica wiped a scalpel, put a card over a watch-glass containing thin shreds of embryonic guinea-pig swimming in mauve stain, and dismantled her microscope.
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