Then she uttered a strangled, ‘Espéce de bête!’ and burst into tears. . ” Anna laughed outright. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. Don't be afraid—I won't hurt you. Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing.
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