Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning. Nobody could possibly find him now. ’ ‘Ah, so that’s where Valade comes in,’ nodded Lucy. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother.
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