The oblique ruddy lighting distorted them oddly, made queer bars and patches of shadow upon their clothes. She hated tricking Shari, whose joy for life was the only thing that made her naive enough to fall for laced iced tea or hot cocoa, depending on the season. ‘You speak as if you expected to meet her again, Gerald. That would be myself, or if she lived, Mary’s daughter. “I think,” began Ann Veronica, “that you don’t realize—” He disregarded her entirely.
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