But was it Faith? That is what she was this day going to find out. Her bald head had swollen on her shoulders, puffy with fresh blood that ringed her mouth. At the end of two long lines of foot-guards stood the cart with a powerful black horse harnessed to it. Ann Veronica loved beautiful things, and the beauty of undraped loveliness not least among them; but these were pictures that did but insist coarsely upon the roundness of women’s bodies.
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