“You come into these sordid surroundings—you mustn’t mind my calling them sordid—and it makes them seem as though they didn’t matter. You used to beg me for hours at a time to give it all up, never to go near the ‘Ambassador’s’ again. This was the worst summer that I ever had in my life, Europe and all, and I can’t tell you how many times I drove by that Violin Camp hoping to catch a look at you, praying that there wasn’t some horny violin guy waiting to ask you out. She could feel her body rebel against her actions, convulsing, so she forced herself to think of her mother in Heaven, her mother's beautiful face, the sun dancing across the rivers of her home. He agreed it was disgraceful. They took their places at a distant table. “Yes, aren’t they?” said Ann Veronica, after a thoughtful pause.
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