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I believe it amused him. "You want me, then?" she said. Spurlock began to munch his water-chestnuts. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. Before Jonathan followed he turned to face his assailants. Frequently he would take up a box of talc and send a shower down his back, or fill his palms with the powder and rub his face and arms and hands. Critically, she stared at her own features.
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