Ann Veronica had one of her flashes of insight. Annabel ignored both the chair and the invitation. For an instant, Melusine watched him go. “I mean to go to that dance! I meant to reason with you, but you won’t reason. She had not nursed Leonardo for weeks for nothing. Friday was not a big dinner night at the Beck house. To be near someone, even someone who made a pretense of friendliness, to hear voices, her own intermingling, would serve as a rehabilitating tonic. Voilà tout.
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