She had been careless. What had she so nearly said? She had almost spoken a name—and quickly withdrawn it. 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. She pushed him gently on the chest. My, um, my curfew. She could not say who, not yet. A rock gave way to deep water.
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