She peered into the darkness. 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. It had been her father’s surname, and it had sounded far more innocuous and American than Iovelli. She was trembling a little.
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