But those days are over—quite over. He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly. Cathy got a second job as a receptionist. The telegram reminded Ann Veronica that she had no place for interviews except her bed-sitting-room, and she sought her landlady and negotiated hastily for the use of the ground floor parlor, which very fortunately was vacant. After a long fifteen seconds, she pulled her head back into the seat, looking at his face from the close angle, his nose huge and out of perspective, his eyes like round blue pearls.
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