She could smell him almost as strongly as she could the new paint on the fire escape walls, along with the wool suit and the weird polyester smell of his wet umbrella. She emerged with a white face and wide-open eyes upon a little, red-lit landing. Ann Veronica was one of the few young people—and one must have young people just as one must have flowers—one could ask to a little gathering without the risk of a painful discord. "Has no man ever kissed you?" "No. If it wasn’t for the fear that after all—but we won’t think of that. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her. The gallant woollen-draper was now in his thirty-sixth year. Now, no more questions, or I shall be forced to leave the room.
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