Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing. The streets were full of colour. A few seasons went by where he initiated her into the disgusting rituals of killing and eating human beings, a dark time where she pined for a rescuer who never arrived. Spurlock lay with his head on his arms, asleep.
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