He waved a cordial goodbye. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. The act was mechanical, a bit of sparring for time: his anger was searching about for a new vent. ” “Ay,” he repeated, looking away from her. “But if you had?” she said. “There’s morbid beauty,” said Ann Veronica. ” “Why do you think so?” she asked. ” “I thought so,” Courtlaw said.
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