” She said. “My dear,” she began, with an affectionate hand on Ann Veronica’s shoulder, “I do SO wish you would realize how it grieves your father. She tolerated spitballs in her curly hair and had to buy a new backpack when hers was stolen. It was as if she had grown right past her father into something older and of infinitely wider outlook, as if he had always been unsuspectedly a flattened figure, and now she had discovered him from the other side. "Your hesitation convinces me he does," replied the widow. Gosse took a step or two towards the centre of the room.
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