The sun was rising, illuminating the trees in black as if they were drawn in ink. He shook his head all the time. Ann Veronica’s experiences of men had been among more stable types—Teddy, who was always absurd; her father, who was always authoritative and sentimental; Manning, who was always Manning. “What do you think of them?” Anna extended her critical survey and shrugged her shoulders. “Do you remember the mountains? Do you remember how we loved one another? How intensely we loved one another! Do you remember the light on things and the glory of things? I’m greedy, I’m greedy! I want children like the mountains and life like the sky. ’ ‘You are perfectly correct,’ agreed Gerald at once.
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