They confronted each other, barely feet apart, neither apparently any longer aware of anyone else in the room. There was, it might be said, a double illumination. Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing. I was afraid of being talked about.
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