Water poured into her eyes, nose, and mouth in a torrent from which she had to turn and wheeze. “Very well,” said her father. “And you brought her a man, I presume. Manning relinquished his cup, and looked meaningly at Ann Veronica. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments.
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