These realizations rushed into Ann Veronica’s mind and hardened her heart against him. Supposing he too wanted love and his arms were as empty as hers? Some living thing that depended upon her. Best assured of that. Was he really awake? The arrival and departure of this strange father lacked the essential human touch to make it real. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. ‘Why, what have I said?’ ‘You said to me my name.
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