And as he walked by her side they began a wrangle that was none the less pleasant to Ann Veronica because it served to banish a disagreeable preoccupation. “And me. “Are you in a hurry? Will you come in and have some coffee?” He hesitated, and glanced towards her companion. Quite soon, after we were married—it was just within a year—I formed a friendship with the wife of a friend, a woman eight years older than myself. He looked at her with an expression of comical despair. She dreaded living off the land again, like an animal, as she had done for dozens of years at a stretch. ‘Don’t put me at the necessity of marrying the abominable little wretch. .
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