White rang the bell. But this is like—like walking round a house that looks square and complete and finding an unexpected long wing running out behind. The houses they flitted to and from were glutted with hangers-on, servant/mistresses, and errant prostitutes. Ann Veronica’s universe, which had never been altogether so respectful to her as she could have wished, gave a shout and whirled head over heels. Stanley, standing up with a sudden geniality and rubbing his hands together. If I'd not gone mad, they would have hanged me. The quiet encounter and home-coming Ann Veronica and she had contemplated was entirely disorganized by this misadventure; there were no adequate explanations, and after they had settled things at Ann Veronica’s lodgings, they reached home in the early afternoon estranged and depressed, with headaches and the trumpet voice of the indomitable Kitty Brett still ringing in their ears.
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