” Ann Veronica hesitated, and then stood in the open doorway and regarded her father’s stern presence. I can smell you. She became aware of the modelling of his ear, of the muscles of his neck and the textures of the hair that came off his brow, the soft minute curve of eyelid that she could just see beyond his brow; she perceived all these familiar objects as though they were acutely beautiful things. On his arrival at Dollis Hill, Mr. “If my own mother was alive,” sobbed Ann Veronica, “she would understand.
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