The quiet encounter and home-coming Ann Veronica and she had contemplated was entirely disorganized by this misadventure; there were no adequate explanations, and after they had settled things at Ann Veronica’s lodgings, they reached home in the early afternoon estranged and depressed, with headaches and the trumpet voice of the indomitable Kitty Brett still ringing in their ears. The agonized mother could scarcely repress a scream at the spectacle that met her gaze. She could smell the sweet girl child he had buried in the garage in autumn, 1 even under the frozen ground. " "Or the flat stones in the meadows, teeming with life underneath. Of the vast mass of these impressions Ann Veronica could make nothing at the time; there they were—Fact! She stored them away in a mind naturally retentive, as a squirrel stores away nuts, for further digestion. Sheppard.
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