The fashions of the day have become antiquated. Trodger was lying in wait at the bottom of the narrow stairs. ” She paused. She drifted back into the welcoming arms of sleep, feeling herself surrounded in silk. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll.
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