She saw her mother, her pale face, a woman in a white robe, calling to her from a sun drenched balcony. ‘When one is penniless, one does not expect a life of ease. He was a square-faced man of nearly fifty, with iron-gray hair a mobile, cleanshaven mouth and rather protuberant black eyes that now scrutinized Ann Veronica. When the carpenter a moment afterwards stretched out his hand, scarcely knowing whether he was alive or dead, he found himself alone. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. The Goopes were the oddest little couple conceivable, following a fruitarian career upon an upper floor in Theobald’s Road.
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