This is clear over my head. Larry kept digging heartily into his spaghetti, not intrigued in the slightest. He forgot Annabel’s idle attempts at love-making, all the cul-de-sac gallantry of the moment. (“No, no. Sebastian traveled at seventy, eighty, then one-hundred down the freeway. Once a week, every Saturday, they had a little gathering from nine till the small hours, just talk and perhaps reading aloud and fruitarian refreshments—chestnut sandwiches buttered with nut tose, and so forth—and lemonade and unfermented wine; and to one of these symposia Miss Miniver after a good deal of preliminary solicitude, conducted Ann Veronica.
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