"Here, wife—hostess—fetch me that bottle from the second shelf in the corner cupboard. The dress came to her only too manifestly unwashed from its former wearer; even the under-linen they gave her seemed unclean. He used a most awful word! Then he said, ‘It’s Ann Veronica gone to join her sister!’ ‘Gone!’ I said. Her mother was a goddess to her all through her youth, the mysterious ruler of all things beautiful and wonderful and lunar, her eyes that glinted spectral blue, as if she had the knowledge and the magic to raise the very dead.
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