For a time she looked at no more apartments, and walked through gaunt and ill-cleaned streets, through the sordid under side of life, perplexed and troubled, ashamed of her previous obtuseness. On the way he confessed. I mean that it doesn’t interest you in itself. ‘To what do you go, mademoiselle? The life of a nun in a convent, in a country where nuns are unwelcome. She wanted to stay where she was; but tears were dangerous; the more she wept, the weaker she would become defensively. She stared at him and thought the words, “My husband, my husband. ” As the long, solitary days wore on, Ann Veronica found a number of definite attitudes and conclusions in her mind.
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