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. The wings stopped. “You’ve no right to badger me like this, Veronica,” he said. A hollow plunge, echoed and re-echoed by the walls, marked his descent into the water.
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