It was enough. She practiced swaddling on a doll, pretending to pat the head of her imaginary infant boy. F. If I had never met anything of you at all but a scrap of your skin binding a book, Ann Veronica, I know I would have kept that somewhere near to me. Can't I make you understand? Perhaps it sounds cruel to you; but we women often have to be cruel defensively. That's part of the bargain. If I let you believe I did not love you, and they found me, your shame would be negligible. "I did all for the best, as I'll explain. "Your son," answered the boy. ‘Shocked you, have I? We weren’t mealy-mouthed in my day, my boy.
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