Sheila pounded the kitchen table, causing the bell jar with the silk flowers to tip over and roll to the floor. Why ain’t you gorn? Seems to me I had ought to arrest you. The supreme effect for Ann Veronica was its surpassing relevance; it made every other atmosphere she knew seem discursive and confused. She made a curious movement toward her niece, then suddenly, convulsively, she dabbed down something lumpy on the table and turned to follow her brother.
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