” True summer descended like a sticky fever upon August’s arrival, bringing with it miasmas of humidity that seemed to hang from the trees like mucus. “She must go her own way. Ann Veronica realized that she was alone with the world. ‘Point it at me. “Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris. And all the old—the old trick of shrinking up like a snail at a touch.
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