“See you. “Why waste yourself, John?” 241 < 31 > THE CONCERT Martin Chen showed up early for the pre-concert warm-up at 5:00. At this moment, his quick ears detected the sound of footsteps on the stairs. He would have to return to Hong-Kong; and his trail would be picked up the moment he set foot on the Praya. As for the doctor, he found a pleasure in this service that would have puzzled him had he paused to analyse it. Whatever anticipation Ann Veronica had formed of this vanished in the reality. They don’t catch on to discursive interests, you see, because they are more serious, they are concentrated on the central reality of life, and a little impatient of its—its outer aspects. "I can never get poor Tom's last look out of my head, as he stood in the Stone-Hall at Newgate, after his irons had been knocked off, unless I manage to stupify myself somehow. You’re like some splendid Princess in Exile in these Dreadful Dingy apartments!” “I’m afraid I’m anything but a Princess when it comes to earning a salary,” said Ann Veronica.
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