” “Married?” said Ann Veronica. “I’m six hundred and forty-eight, John, but guess how old I look? Fifteen. The idea of this sudden reluctance was elusive; the fact was evident but not the reason for it. Then she stepped back into the empty room and stood for a moment looking down upon the scattered fragments of her last canvas. And he had destroyed all this. She ran down alleyways and between buildings, faster than an Olympian, until she could hear his voice no more. You will never be happy with this hanging over you.
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