“I killed him. "I must go. Work becomes distasteful; one thinks of holidays. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea. “What did you say?” “Well, I considered myself justified in denying it,” Anna answered drily. There were perches inside where she could crouch and labyrinths underneath where she could hide. After all, if one could wait twenty years or more in between bouts of lovemaking, one could certainly wait a few more days. All the rest of our lives would be together then, Ann Veronica.
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