Part 2 In the late afternoon, as Ann Veronica was gathering flowers for the dinnertable, her father came strolling across the lawn toward her with an affectation of great deliberation. "Put it under my pillow," he said. Women to me are something so serene, so fine, so feminine, and politics are so dusty, so sordid, so wearisome and quarrelsome. I said to myself at once, ‘Either this is a coincidence or the caper sauce. I did all for the best, I'm sure. I want you beyond measure or reckoning. “Why should it matter?” he said.
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