As she talked, the drift and significance of what she was saying shaped itself slowly to Ann Veronica’s apprehension. She was trembling a little. The floor was strewn with screws, nails, fragments of wood and stone, and across the passage lay the heavy iron fillet. Her mother brewed potions to scent her hair, sweet balms of anise for her lips and hands, told her wonderful secrets, some decidedly un-Christian. But I've stacks of books and a grand piano-player. One of the reasons why I left Paris and came to London was because there was a man there who wanted me to marry him. 1.
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