He haunted a state between hectic dreaming and mild delirium, and she found herself talking aloud to him. “My sister,” she murmured, “is so independent. “Annabel,” she said brusquely. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. " "It won't.
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