‘I thought—I thought I saw my—my husband. ” “Let us say that Café Maston, in the Boulevard des Italiennes, at half-past seven then,” he decided. Besides, she had admitted her identity. 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 I'll bet a doughnut that boy in his soul is crazy to have it over with. I don’t conceal it. The great ordeal—that which she had most dreaded—had proved to be no ordeal at all. I hoped for a family like the Becks and I waded through the system until I got them, so maybe life isn’t so damn hopeless after all.
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