Part 2 In the late afternoon, as Ann Veronica was gathering flowers for the dinnertable, her father came strolling across the lawn toward her with an affectation of great deliberation. There was no answer, just grunting, so she repeated the question in Latin, then in Greek, to which Rhea responded. It looked as if it had taken its world for granted and prospered on that assumption—a world in which children were trained to obey their elders and the wills of women over-ruled as a matter of course. After you went he got up and took refuge in the preparation-room. But his astonishment would have been great indeed had he known that not even her father had ever caressed her, either with lips or with hands. She would then partially recall the items that she had heard about him, presenting each at the angle that was the most likely to inflict pain. I saw him last night at Jonathan Wild's, after my escape from the New Prison.
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