” Ann Veronica was silent for a while. “It’s either now or never,” she said to herself. It was painful to want him so much. Then the bridge had arched gateways, bristling with spikes, and garnished (as all ancient gateways ought to be) with the heads of traitors. She tolerated spitballs in her curly hair and had to buy a new backpack when hers was stolen. " "He's no such thing!" cried Mrs.
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