Jonathan, however, paid no sort of attention to this demonstration of hatred. “Don’t you understand? It is I whom you cared for in Paris, not Anna. If I had never met anything of you at all but a scrap of your skin binding a book, Ann Veronica, I know I would have kept that somewhere near to me. ” She seemed unmoved, but she did not look at him. Outside the door he turned and stared at the panels. " The Wastrel laughed.
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