Perhaps once it had desired some other human being intolerably. “Cheveney!” she repeated. As she talked she made weak little gestures with her hands, and she thrust her face forward from her bent shoulders; and she peered sometimes at Ann Veronica and sometimes at a photograph of the Axenstrasse, near Fluelen, that hung upon the wall. ‘I can’t tell you the times I’ve wished for a gun to point at Hilary’s head.
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