” Ann Veronica was silent for a while. ‘You’re either mad, or in love. " The Wastrel laughed. No one seeing you together could doubt that she is your granddaughter. Occasionally the canvas snapped as the wind veered slightly. Then, her body still tense with the atoms of anger, she sat down upon the edge of the bed and rocked from side to side. That her husband was not touching her anymore grew to be like a disease, something to be cured. It was if the world had blinked out for a moment.
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