He became ugly and monstrous, dunning her, threatening her, assailing her. “But I don’t see,” said Ann Veronica, “just how it fits the present situation. Ray Plote would not leave a written explanation. He was and always would be dramatizing his emotions; perpetually he would be confounding his actual with his imaginary self. I'll leave these out, and to-morrow you can read them through. Her answer was not quite ready. “I did not recognize him,” Anna answered. I ought never to have thought of it. This gloom was impossible.
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