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. She might scream until her voice failed; the natives would not come to her aid; they never meddled with the affairs of the whites. “I knew of course that you were at the Montressor’s, but I had no idea that it was a music hall party afterwards. As for me, I look twice at it. "I never told anybody," she went on. Yet every now and then, during the progress of the meal, his attention apparently wandered, and leaning forward he glanced covertly at Anna with a curious mixture of expressions on his face. I’m not a lovesick boy.
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