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. Why don’t you wait and see if you do truly love me, then I can believe you? Then I know I am worth waiting for. They were his friends, and they recognized his unusual earnestness. They had been playing tennis, with his manifest intention looming over her. She had found the location of his firm on the internet on a library computer, tracing him to this place in New York where he practiced criminal law. She was very satisfied about this. All his dreams shattered in an instant. For a time Ann Veronica’s attention was diverted by her aunt’s interest in the salted almonds. " "We may believe as much of that as we please, I suppose," observed the carpenter's wife, with a sneer.
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