Anna crossed the street, and letting herself in at No. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. The baby did not strike at Sebastian. “Now,” he said, “no one can blunder in upon us. If you forget your sex, jade, I must forget mine. Why had Ruth married him? A penniless outcast, for she must have known he was that. There was something fatalistic about the letter H. That wrappered life, as you call it—we’ve burned the confounded rags! Danced out of it! We’re stark!” “Stark!” echoed Ann Veronica. And at length her penultimate day in Morningside Park dawned for her.
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