" Thus urged, the damsels began to raise their voices in loud lamentation. “You’re not a man for me—not one of a sex, I mean. Oh, I know. Sheila pounded the kitchen table, causing the bell jar with the silk flowers to tip over and roll to the floor. The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style.
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