He seemed to her indistinguishably about her father’s age. Still unconscious of anything he did physically. Her unnatural calm was giving way. She realized dimly that there was no personal thing behind his cry, that countless myriads of Mannings had “My God!”-ed with an equal gusto at situations as flatly apprehended. Jack, however, had an expedient for mastering this difficulty. Sheppard raised her eyes, and fixed them upon her interrogator. And yet for all that— It got into Ann Veronica’s nights at last and kept her awake, the perplexing contrast between the advanced thought and the advanced thinker. The Dawn Pearl. She thought of leaving the Beck house less and less these days, though the suitcase remained packed underneath her creaky bed.
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