He seemed years younger, and the arrangement of his tie and hair were almost rakish. Anna held out her hand, and he paused. He began to tell me something—and stopped. She found herself mildly entertained by staring at the houses through the rain as she walked home, all cast in a gray blurry film noir gauze of rain. “I go to private school right now. Then she and her husband went off to a Yorkshire practice, and had four more babies, none of whom photographed well, and so she passed beyond the sphere of Ann Veronica’s sympathies altogether.
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