The gale had become a hurricane: that hurricane was the most terrible that ever laid waste our city. Only an undermaid I was then. They talked lightly and smoked cigarettes till Anna, with a little laugh, threw open the window and let in the cool night air. We come out into the world, some of us—” She paused. She knew that to expect more now was like anticipating a gold-mine in the garden. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother.
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