It was a boy baby cooing in swaddling clothes, a baby who had just been born to the butcher's servant across the alley, the maid Isobella who trailed behind, beaming. There were words, then, that ran on indefinitely, with reversals? Here they meant one thing; there, the exact opposite. Part 2 In the late afternoon, as Ann Veronica was gathering flowers for the dinnertable, her father came strolling across the lawn toward her with an affectation of great deliberation. It rained slightly, and a thick mist gathered in the air, and obscured the beautiful prospect. “Well,” she said.
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