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Her hair touched water, becoming like the seaweed in its velvet slickness. For a time Ann Veronica’s attention was diverted by her aunt’s interest in the salted almonds. He told some of the particulars. Much more temperate; the discreet and joyless love of a virtuous, reluctant, condescending wife. Flesh and blood, vivid, alluring; she was no longer the symbol, therefore she had become, as in the twinkling of an eye, an utter stranger. . I knew it.
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