But that other world, in spite of her resolute exclusion of it, was always looking round corners and peeping through chinks and crannies, and rustling and raiding into the order in which she chose to live, shining out of pictures at her, echoing in lyrics and music; it invaded her dreams, it wrote up broken and enigmatical sentences upon the passage walls of her mind. He had no use for Ann Veronica; he had never had a use for her since she had been too old to sit upon his knee. “You will always have to run from normal people and normal life, John. The doctor would never betray him. Wood in the deepest mourning.
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