” Ennison laughed softly. To them all I am nothing. Annabel is my only sister, you know, almost my only relative. ” “You are,” he answered unconsciously. There it is. That’s how things are; that’s the order of the world. He was unusually absurd and ready, and all the time it seemed to Ann Veronica as a delightful possibility, as a thing not indeed to be entertained seriously, but to be half furtively felt, that he was being so agreeable because she had come back again.
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