” “Girls!” cried Ann Veronica. Ruth was inflammable; she would always be flaring up swiftly, in pity, in tenderness, in anger; she would always be answering impulses, without seeking to weigh or to analyse them. Once in the room, the door locked, the sense of loneliness had dropped away from her as the mists used to drop away from the mountain in the morning. Michelle burst into laughter, followed by John, who almost spit up his cola. I’d only have to do something about it, and that I can’t. The sidewalk resonated with the pounding of cold rain by the time she left the building.
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