He reached for her chin and lifted it up. “Hand me the Jergens lotion, will you? How’d it go with John?” She asked. Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing. ‘Desist, you little devil,’ he growled in her ear. Essentially the talk was a mixture of fragments of sentences heard, of passages read, or arguments indicated rather than stated, and all of it was served in a sauce of strange enthusiasm, thin yet intense. ’ She eyed him, all her uncertainty surfacing. “We may just as well have our talk afterwards,” she said, “and I need not keep poor Mr.
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