V + 

I remembered, anyway, after Gillian had gone from my room, to write Bettie Hamlyn a postcard. It was no longer, strictly speaking, the twenty-third, but considerably after midnight, of course. Still, it was the writing regularly when I loathed writing letters that counted with Bettie, I reflected; and virtually I was writing on the twenty-third, and besides, Bettie would never know. + 