” Anna handed her a bracelet she had made out of string and macaroni. "I could almost forgive the wretch the injury he did me in depriving me of my poor dear wife—No, not quite that," he added, a little confused. She calls him a pig, and she says he ain’t Valade. It may not be just, it may not be fair, but things are so. ‘Yes, but quite my own fault. But you have, haven’t you?’ He tutted again. But that instinct is severely dampened most of the time. Something in his smile, in the cynical suggestiveness of his deferential tone, maddened her. You don’t know what you ask nor what you say. These interests her world promptly, through the agency of schoolmistresses, older school-mates, her aunt, and a number of other responsible and authoritative people, assured her she must on no account think about. He watched her constantly, trapped her in corners and slept with his arms locking her like a human cage. “You ass and imbecile, Ann Veronica! You female cad! Cad! Cad!. ” It was, Ann Veronica felt, at once absurd and extraordinarily right. You see, I’m selfish. ‘But how did she meet such a person in a convent?’ ‘He was wounded and came there for sanctuary,’ Gerald explained, adding almost through his teeth.
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