He lit a cigarette and loitered about. Lucy thought of a song that she had not been able to get out of her head since the Fifties. Wood, contemptuously. "For my part, it's only what I expected of him," observed Mrs. ’ ‘Who were they?’ she asked abruptly. And Ann Veronica walked beside him, trying in vain to soften her heart to him by the thought of how she had ill-used him, and all the time, as her feet and mind grew weary together, rejoicing more and more that at the cost of this one interminable walk she escaped the prospect of—what was it?—“Ten thousand days, ten thousand nights” in his company.
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