Anna, why will you persist in this single-handed combat with life?” “Don’t!” she cried. Water poured into her eyes, nose, and mouth in a torrent from which she had to turn and wheeze. ” For some creditable moments in her life Ann Veronica was utterly disgusted with herself; she was wrung with a passionate and belated desire to move gently, to speak softly and ambiguously—to be, in effect, prim. She could feel teenage girls from all corners of the room tensing, preparing to shriek.
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