“I expected you this morning,” he said. 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. She was sick of herself, of her life, of everything but him; and for him all her masked and hidden being was crying out. “See you at school tomorrow. He stopped, panting hard, slamming his cane to the floor to make use of its much-needed support.
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