“No you don’t!” said Ann Veronica, and walked out at a brisk and businesslike pace toward the house. Little by little, she stopped hating him. The dance itself was anticlimactic, with teenagers trying their best to look the part of adult sophisticates on the dance floor. We meant to make it dinner and a theatre, but you were not home. They would be partners only in loneliness. In the chapel she sang with an open-lunged gusto that silenced Ann Veronica altogether, and in the exercising-yard slouched round with carelessly dispersed feet.
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