" He vowed "eternal fidelity to that springtide of love" and
ended by declaring that his sole wish was to "recommence that happy time
if, indeed, happiness can recommence."
"I say that out of politeness, y'know," he explained. "The moment it
becomes laughable--eh, what! I think she's felt it, she has!"
He glowed with triumph. But Nana was unskillful; she still suspected
an outbreak and now was mistaken enough not to fling her arms round
his neck in a burst of admiration. She thought the letter a respectable
performance, nothing more. Thereupon he was much annoyed. If his letter
did not please her she might write another! And so instead of bursting
out in loverlike speeches and exchanging kisses, as their wont was, they
sat coldly facing one another at the table. Nevertheless, she poured him
out a cup of tea.
"Here's a filthy mess," he cried after dipping his lips in the mixture.
"You've put salt in it, you have!"
Nana was unlucky enough to shrug her shoulders, and at that he grew
furious.
"Aha! Things are taking a wrong turn tonight!"
And with that the quarrel began. It was only ten by the clock, and this
was a way of killing time. So he lashed himself into a rage and threw
in Nana's teeth a whole string of insults and all kinds of accusations
which followed one another so closely that she had no time to defend
herself.
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