” “Your priestess,” whispered Ann Veronica, softly. ” For some creditable moments in her life Ann Veronica was utterly disgusted with herself; she was wrung with a passionate and belated desire to move gently, to speak softly and ambiguously—to be, in effect, prim. He turned me so that he could have a companion in his loneliness. She softened her tone and scrambled for the right words.
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