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. “Really, I do not know why I should have doubted it. She had always loved babies, like you! We ran away to the Barbars, back then, the land of the barbarian North.
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