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. ’ ‘Perfectly correct, my boy. Then he turned to Anna. “That’s all very well when one isn’t the material experimented upon,” Ann Veronica had remarked. All the rest of his existence was subordinate to this pursuit; he lived for it, worked for it, kept himself in training for it.
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