She loved her mother Marina more than any other thing in the world and could not bear to speak to her for a fortnight after being told her fate. For all her begging she had been given the choice to go into the nunnery and “learn how to read scrolls with the rest of God’s Spinsters” by her father, but had quickly lost interest when presented with the idea of bearing babies. Sometimes the music would be tender and dreamy, like a native mother's crooning to her young; sometimes it would be so gay that the flesh tingled and the feet were urged to dance; again, it would be like the storms crashing, thunderous. Cold drops stood upon Wood's brow, as he encountered this obstacle. "Oh, easily enough," rejoined the other. She would compose extremely lucid and honorable explanations. . “But why is it preposterous?” asked Ann Veronica, and fiddled with a pipe on the mantel.
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