As they careened into a parking space, Lucy clung to the upholstery so as not to be thrown against the front seats. He felt the first sting of the whip. She gained her room, and slammed her door and locked it as though she feared violence and pursuit. But the restraint exercised by her instinctive delicacy was very great; over and above coarse or sexual matters it covered religion and politics and any mention of money matters or crime, and Ann Veronica found herself wondering whether these exclusions represented, after all, anything more than suppressions. Of you—an angel with one wing.
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