“My child, I do not wish. Still, one never could tell. She found him reclined, watching television in a small guest room hidden in a back wing of the massive house. 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.
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