But he had always felt (he had never allowed himself to think of it) that the promptitude of their family was a little indelicate of her, and in a sense an intrusion. The hand which the man had been holding hung limp and nerveless at her side. “Not at all. ” His father interjected. “You delicate female!” “Who cares,” said Ann Veronica, “seeing it’s you? Warm, soft little wonders! Of course I want them. " Ten minutes later, the doctor, having marshalled all his facts chronologically, began his tale.
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