She glanced at the soft-ticking clock with the exposed brass pendulum upon the white marble mantel, and made a rapid calculation. " Neither spinster noticed the reluctance in the tones. Yon must be mine to-night. I want to love him. She saw her life before her robbed of all generous illusions, the wrappered life unwrappered forever, vistas of dull responses, crises of makebelieve, years of exacting mutual disregard in a misty garden of fine sentiments. "Jack!" Her son averted his gaze. “Let me think,” said Ann Veronica.
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