And, as he was about to put himself into a posture of defence, his mother clasped him in her arms. Every man in her life had betrayed her one way or another. But then Lady Palsworthy had never seen Ann Veronica running like the wind at hockey. She took hand cannon and began to arm it. She was aware of it now as if it were a voice shouting outside a house, shouting passionate verities in a hot sunlight, a voice that cries while people talk insincerely in a darkened room and pretend not to hear.
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