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. But not once in these ten years had they borne blossom or fruit. Not my affair, of course, but I think we ought to teach them more or restrain them more. “That’s not working so well for you, is it?” She looked at him sheepishly, bringing a Kleenex out of her pocket to wipe away the excess. He began munching his water-chestnuts—a small brown radish-shaped vegetable, with the flavour of coconut—that grow along the river brims. Her eyes noted it mercilessly. She spoke readily enough, but there was a new timidity in her manner. For a few moments, Thames regarded the little girl through the half-opened door in silence. The music confused and distracted her, and made her struggle against a feeling of intoxication.
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