I want to make you feel that here is a place where the crowd does not clamor nor ill-winds blow. The cultivated indifference, which was part of the armour of his little world fell away from him. The Wastrel, his eyes full of humorous evil, stood inside the room. Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing.
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