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. "The Dutchman was right, after all. We've got to make him take up the harp of life and go twanging it again. His demeanour then was sober enough to lend colour to that belief. Annabel set her teeth hard, and turned fiercely towards Anna. I ought to be able to think things out.
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