Whether it was the nun’s habit or the harlot’s clothing that distressed her more, he could not begin to guess. It is abominable—” “What is the use of keeping up this note of indignation, Ann Veronica? Here I am! I am your lover, burning for you. " "If he had only been my father!—McClintock!" "God didn't standardize human beings, Ruth; no grain of wheat is like another. He saw the girl, and sprang up in bed. “Look here, daddy,” she said, in a tone of great reasonableness, “I MUST go to that dance, you know. They seemed the most wrapped things in all Ann Veronica’s wrappered world. Bête, she told herself fiercely. We can’t even protect them from themselves.
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