So she went to Ramage and came to the point almost at once. 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. “I got Sydney’s telegram at ten o’clock, and caught the ten-thirty from the Gare du Nord. . “You call yourself an artist— but you have no temperament. ‘That’s a loud one. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement.
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