“After all, it’s our honeymoon. He was unusually absurd and ready, and all the time it seemed to Ann Veronica as a delightful possibility, as a thing not indeed to be entertained seriously, but to be half furtively felt, that he was being so agreeable because she had come back again. He too was flushed and ruffled; one side of his collar had slipped from its stud and he held a hand to the corner of his jaw. Why didn’t I die? Why does God hate me so? Why does He not want me? I didn’t die because I’m weak, because I am cursed! I hate this poisoned world! But most of all. “If I didn’t love you better than myself,” said Capes, “I wouldn’t fence like this with you.
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