The air became hot and swollen with June humidity. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. She was informed by Ah Cum that the Chinaman was one of the literati and that he was expounding the deathless philosophy of Confucius, which, summed up, signified that the end of all philosophy is Nothing. And as he walked by her side they began a wrangle that was none the less pleasant to Ann Veronica because it served to banish a disagreeable preoccupation. “I’d never have a day of peace again, John.
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