277 “I was beginning to think that I would never see you again, Lucy. ‘I see that Leonardo was right. Her fingers were bursting through her gloves, as if to get at once into touch with Ann Veronica. " "If he had only been my father!—McClintock!" "God didn't standardize human beings, Ruth; no grain of wheat is like another. He had a flattish, perhaps, it should be called, a flattened nose, and a brown, leathernlooking hide, that seemed as if it had not unfrequently undergone the process of tanning. “I don’t believe there is one. ” It was a long, meandering talk, stupid, shameful, and unavoidable.
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