He saw rifts in clouds—sunshine. “Confound sex from first to last!” said Ann Veronica. She was vehemently impatient—she did not clearly know for what—to do, to be, to experience. ‘That is the man who tries to kill me, but he wounded instead my servant. Her usual dignified reserve had availed her nothing. She would come back and write letters, carefully planned and written letters, or read some book she had fetched from Mudie’s—she had invested a half-guinea with Mudie’s—or sit over her fire and think. Never had he been so intrigued. And the change, the change of attitude! The way all the old clingingness has been thrown aside is amazing. .
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