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. “Let me introduce you to Caesar,” he said; and she patted Caesar’s neck, and remarked how soft his nose was, and secretly deplored the ugliness of equine teeth. “He can’t be more than thirty. But his life, ruled by chance and the fight to survive had appealed strongly to Melusine’s rebellious spirit. . Nuns, I mean. He buys his own clothes, chooses his own company, makes his own way of living.
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