Wood, sharply. Her fingers were bursting through her gloves, as if to get at once into touch with Ann Veronica. Oaths exploded like shells from a battery in full fire, accompanied by threats of direst vengeance against the individuals who had maltreated them. She was glad not to be baking in it anymore, or feeling the fiberglass splinters 64 invading her rear end from sitting on the bleachers. “Nothing,” said Ann Veronica, and stared over her shoulder out of the window.
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