He and his friends (he had at least two per class, even in Trigonometry) would make their exits as quickly as possible. Mr. ‘If you care for me at all, shoot me. He came in apologetically; all the old “Well, and how ARE we?” note gone; and once he asked Ann Veronica, almost furtively, “How’s Alice getting on, Vee?” Finally, on the Day, he appeared like his old professional self transfigured, in the most beautiful light gray trousers Ann Veronica had ever seen and a new shiny silk hat with a most becoming roll. His kind eyes were puffy with fatigue.
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