” Her urge to drink deeply of his blood was growing insane, ignited by what he had already donated. When first brought under consideration, she was a miserable and forlorn object; squalid in attire, haggard in looks, and emaciated in frame. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. Part 2 The next few weeks were a time of the very liveliest thought and growth for Ann Veronica. Old saltwater was right. The immense disillusionment that awaited him! The devastating disillusionment! She had a vague desire to run after him, to state her case to him, to wring some understanding from him of what life was to her.
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