By a tacit agreement they ignored the significant thing between them, ignored the slipping away of the ground on which they had stood together hitherto. “There was an accident with a pistol in Miss Pellissier’s room,” he said. Ann Veronica glanced at the mirror to discover a flushed and dishevelled disorder. "I'll tell you a dream I had last night," continued the unfortunate being. It runs about gayly, it romps, it is bright and pretty, it has enormous quantities of soft hair and more power of expressing affection than its brothers. But it strikes me there's a nigger in the woodpile somewhere, as you Yankees say. There was a wall; she was always encountering it; the one time she was able to break through this wall was when the part in his hair was crooked. Such of his features as were visible were of coarse mould. Then, very awkwardly, he took a stool and placed it at the end of Ann Veronica’s table, and sat down. “Ann Veronica,” he said, “I tell you this is love. Surely it was a dream.
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