The boy she had loved was gone. The Rev. But anything is better than this. The quiet encounter and home-coming Ann Veronica and she had contemplated was entirely disorganized by this misadventure; there were no adequate explanations, and after they had settled things at Ann Veronica’s lodgings, they reached home in the early afternoon estranged and depressed, with headaches and the trumpet voice of the indomitable Kitty Brett still ringing in their ears. Come up stairs, and take a glass of brandy. Understand me. ’ He sighed. “My word holds,” she said.
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