She must be beautiful, but beauty is only the beginning. I would not have him know—now—for the world. Breakfast, too, was an impossible occasion. He stood away from her. Awful shapes seemed to flit by, borne on the wings of the tempest, animating and directing its fury. ’ She edged sideways a little more, her eyes on the pistol in his hand. I don’t care. He shut his eyes and groped for the wall to steady himself, wondering if this bit of mummery would get over. She turned to face him and he kissed her. He had had five children at irregular intervals, of whom Ann Veronica was the youngest, so that as a parent he came to her perhaps a little practised and jaded and inattentive; and he called her his “little Vee,” and patted her unexpectedly and disconcertingly, and treated her promiscuously as of any age between eleven and eight-and-twenty.
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