It's never a bad day that has a good ending. None of the things they said and did were altogether new to Ann Veronica, but now she got them massed and alive, instead of by glimpses or in books—alive and articulate and insistent. You must think of this evening, John, sometimes—as a sort of atonement. ‘Forgive my not rising to greet you,’ she said, holding out a claw-like hand.
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