They did not speak until he had driven past town limits and were on the highway. Ann Veronica had had some training at the Tredgold College in disentangling threads from confused statements, and she had a curious persuasion that in all this fluent muddle there was something—something real, something that signified. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. "Why didn't you come out when I called you, you young dog?" cried Quilt in a savage tone. Papillon would have broken him down; anything tender would have sapped his will; and like as not he would have left the stool and rushed into the night. "Agreed," responded the Master. . ’ ‘Comment?’ she demanded with some heat. Her mother had prepared her for everything.
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