Ann Veronica sat back in an attitude of inattention, her eyes on a distant game of cricket, her mind perplexed and busy. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. Part of her even believed that her mother would have wanted her to stop feeling guilty and to be happy. ‘When we met probably, and you threatened me at the first.
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