More than ever a sense of confusion was upon Ennison. She set her fingers in the hair and tugged, drawing him to a sitting posture and stooping so that her eyes would be on the level with his when he awoke. She dared not say the word aloud, not even to herself. A hazy face appeared through the fog of sleep, pale and thin and looming. All the rest of our lives would be together then, Ann Veronica. And I have seen work by his pupils myself that struck me as being—well, next door to shameful.
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