Many things were only words, sounds; she could not construct these words and sounds into objects; or, if she did, invariably missed the mark. So he sharpened a score of pencils, and after fiddling about and rewriting the last page he had written the previous night, he plunged into work. " "Mr. “My God! Ann Veronica,” he said, struggling to keep his hold upon her; “my God! Tell me—tell me now—tell me you love me!” His expression was as it were rapaciously furtive. He seemed to her indistinguishably about her father’s age. He had diverged only a little from the truth when he said that his chief interest in life was women. org 1.
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