Ann Veronica had had some training at the Tredgold College in disentangling threads from confused statements, and she had a curious persuasion that in all this fluent muddle there was something—something real, something that signified. Brother and Sister VIII. Perhaps she would have to charge this man and appear in a police-court next day. His baggy shorts sagged over knobby knees that tapered into decrepit Reebok sneakers. "I knew it. She looked up and said, a little breathlessly, “I’m sorry, aunt, but I don’t think I can. Our heads swim with the thought of being together.
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