I was happy to oblige them, I had grown sick of the heat of the south and all the miserable sun. “Accident! She shot me,” he muttered. To wait for hours and hours for the night! The sea empty for days! You forgot the monotony, the endless monotony, that bends you and breaks you and crushes you—you forgot that!" Her voice had steadily risen until it was charged with passionate anger. There was a little pause between them, full for Ann Veronica of rapid elusive suspicions and intimations. She had never heard anything so unholy.
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