She was nearly too giddy still to answer him. And yet for all that— It got into Ann Veronica’s nights at last and kept her awake, the perplexing contrast between the advanced thought and the advanced thinker. “Who’ll mind the baby nar?” was one of the night’s inspirations, and very frequent. For a long time even the strong pipe tobacco (with which McClintock supplied him) possessed a coconut flavour. As he returned to the table, he put his finger to his nose; and, though he said nothing, he thought he had a much better chance of winning his wager.
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