‘Let her go. A paralyzing horror was upon her. Teddy was the hatless young man who had turned Ann Veronica aside from the Avenue two days before. It was cramped even at the end of the passage. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. “I believe you are quite right so far as regards the present, at any rate,” someone remarked, from the depths of an easy chair.
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