They used the rope—not that a rope was at all necessary, but because Ann Veronica’s exalted state of mind made the fact of the rope agreeably symbolical; and, anyhow, it did insure a joint death in the event of some remotely possibly mischance. The mother was far more real to her than the father; the ghostly far more substantial than the living form. “So long as I am your father, so long as your life is entrusted to my care, I feel bound by every obligation to use my authority to check this odd disposition of yours toward extravagant enterprises. ‘I might have killed you,’ she snapped, ‘if only you did not say anything. The Enschede Bible—the one out of which she read—had been strangely mutilated. I owe his mother one, and will repay the debt, with interest, to her son. ” She disengaged herself from him and went out of the room with a grave, preoccupied expression. Her thick body was heavy and massive. His face will be all I need. ‘What’s more, I wouldn’t blame her.
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