With Jack so badly injured, how would she get him home? How get herself home, now that Trodger had arrested her. It had been Ann Veronica’s lot as the youngest child to live in a home that became less animated and various as she grew up. He ushered them with an amiable flat hand into a minute apartment with a little gas-stove, a silk crimson-covered sofa, and a bright little table, gay with napery and hot-house flowers. The sounds of the seashore infiltrated her dreams as she floated in heavenly bliss of sleep. “When one wants a thing more than anything else in the world,” she said with outrageous frankness, “one naturally wishes one had it. "I feel like work," he lied. And a custom had grown up of a general tea at four o’clock, under the auspices of a Miss Garvice, a tall and graceful girl of distinguished intellectual incompetence, in whom the hostess instinct seemed to be abnormally developed. There were no doors in the bungalow; instead, there were curtains of strung bead and bamboo, always tinkling mysteriously.
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