It’s not a bit of good pretending there’s any Higher Truth or wonderful principle in this business. “And then?” said Ann Veronica. Leonardo he was my—’ ‘Don’t say it,’ Gerald cut in hoarsely. Passing thought. His face darkened. She felt his tongue press into her mouth. And now, when you come at last, you bring me this grandfather, and you dare to tell me I am like him. “The white unaggressive woman who corrects and nurses and serves, and is worshipped and betrayed—the martyr-queen of men, the white mother.
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