His diminutive hand flew out from behind his back like a wounded bird. “A little nervous. It did not take a mind reader to glean that she had suddenly gained the boy’s obsessive attention. She rambles continually about Jack, and her husband, and that wretch Jonathan, to whom, as far as can be gathered from her wild ravings, she attributes all her misery. “You’re—I don’t know,” said Ann Veronica.
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