Her mind turned to her own future, the endless trickle of years. Her head dangled unnaturally for an instant, unleashed from its moorings, then sank to join her husband’s on the floor. “And think, think”—her voice sank —“of the horrible coarseness!” “What coarseness?” said Ann Veronica. The tail-ender of this little caravan, he had been rather out of it.
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