“This isn’t furtive,” said Ann Veronica. She come home within a few months of the wedding. “Election be hanged!” he exclaimed. When he found himself thinking about it, it upset him so that he at once resorted to distraction. It was Annabel who spoke. She had a feeling as though something had dropped from her eyes, as though she had just discovered herself for the first time—discovered herself as a sleepwalker might do, abruptly among dangers, hindrances, and perplexities, on the verge of a cardinal crisis.
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