org Title: Ann Veronica Author: H. Put out your hand and bid me God-speed. She offers me no explanation, permits me absolutely no hope. You may perceive harmony, proportion, rhythm, intensely. Oh, I’ve loved love, dear! I’ve loved love and you, and the glory of you; and the great time is over, and I have to go carefully and bear children, and—take care of my hair—and when I am done with that I shall be an old woman.
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