He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing. “You understand, then,” he was saying, “you understand?” “I understand,” said Ann Veronica, tear-wet and flushed with a reciprocal passion, but standing up to him with an equality that amazed even herself, “I understand. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. In the circles into which he had been born, the passing on of land was of vital importance. . At the door through which she had entered the room stood the so-called Monsieur Valade.
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