"I've counted ten coffins so far. Your life is like a funeral March. “If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand. “Let me think,” said Ann Veronica. Smith decidedly the plainest of the two. Why am I here—thirty years of loneliness? Because I know women, the good and the bad; and because I could not have the good, I would not take the bad. ‘Your wife?’ ‘My wife,’ he repeated, rising also, his smile mocking her. I would even have taken a place as waitress in a tea shop. . Wood, in equal trepidation. Do you think that I am utterly selfish?” She raised her eyebrows. ’ ‘She is no longer a mystery,’ Gerald said. “I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen.
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