He lowered her neck before her, and she noticed a bizarre urge to bite him rising from her mind like an itch. It was his redemption, his ticket out of hell—that blue-serge coat. The passage was so narrow that there was only sufficient room for the cart to pass, with a single line of foot-soldiers on one side; and, as the walls of the bridge were covered with spectators, it was not deemed prudent to cross it till these persons were dislodged. “You certainly got him in the bag. They seemed the most wrapped things in all Ann Veronica’s wrappered world. Her face reminded him of a delicate unglazed porcelain cup, filled with blond wine.
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