It could not be a legal marriage. She began rubbing it with her pocket-handkerchief. His light brown hair was almost crew cut short. Even now she could trace the outline of his shape behind the left-hand curtain. But this is all different. Ray Plote would not leave a written explanation. “Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. ” For some creditable moments in her life Ann Veronica was utterly disgusted with herself; she was wrung with a passionate and belated desire to move gently, to speak softly and ambiguously—to be, in effect, prim. “To begin with, I was—I was in the divorce court.
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