‘Oh, the Frenchie. And like that gospel it meant something, something different from its phrases, something elusive, and yet something that in spite of the superficial incoherence of its phrasing, was largely essentially true. ” Ann Veronica hesitated, and then stood in the open doorway and regarded her father’s stern presence. She moved her hand off of his knee, deliberately slow. She hated being angry, the uselessness of it all, the frustration. My vengeance is completely gratified.
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