Part 7 “And what are you doing here, young lady,” he said, looking up at her face, “wandering alone so far from home?” “I like long walks,” said Ann Veronica, looking down on him. I must provide for my safety. His gangling body was clothed in rusty twill trousers and a long black seersucker coat, buttoned to the throat, around which ran a collar which would have marked him the world over as a man of the Word. She had not chosen her life, but she was foggy on whether or not it was right to deny others the right to join her in her suffering. “How do you feel?” she asked.
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