” Annabel’s hand stole into his. He was a thin old man, a wreck in a ruined body, but nothing would induce him to stand in any other way than as stiffly erect as possible like the soldier he had always been, even though he was obliged to lean on his silver-handled cane to do so. The world had grown dark and wide, and she was very small. It happened that at the extremest point of Ann Veronica’s social circle from the Widgetts was the family of the Morningside Park horsedealer, a company of extremely dressy and hilarious young women, with one equestrian brother addicted to fancy waistcoats, cigars, and facial spots. His hand rested heavily and cruelly upon Ruth's shoulder. She should be lifted out of her narrow little life, and it should be all owing to him. Vorsack sauntered into the room, sporting her usual toothy thin254 lipped grin. The whole place and everything in it aimed at one thing—to illustrate, to elaborate, to criticise and illuminate, and make ever plainer and plainer the significance of animal and vegetable structure. He had not bothered to take off his raincoat and his umbrella sat dripping on his modern ice cube of a table. He pulled on his pants, his yellow shirt with the ridiculous horse logo, his brown socks, and shoes.
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