She wanted to go to Cornell University to study Anthropology, that was her 183 dream. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. ‘What’s more, I wouldn’t blame her. Ennison. Her aunt, a faded, anæmic-looking lady of somewhat too obtrusive gentility, was still sitting with her hand pressed to her heart.
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