Ann Veronica had had some training at the Tredgold College in disentangling threads from confused statements, and she had a curious persuasion that in all this fluent muddle there was something—something real, something that signified. ” “Why not?” “You see, if I do go home my father objects to the College, and as for typing —” “Don’t go home. Her eyes were soft and blue, arched over by dark brows, and fringed by long silken lashes.
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