Ann Veronica had come down thinking of nothing in the world but her inflexible resolution to go to the dance in the teeth of all opposition. What you want to do is to imagine every woman a Becky Sharp and every man a Rawdon Crawley. Perhaps that is why I lost my ambition. As he pocketed it, her open palm reached out and slapped his cheek. Lucy's grin faded. The boy she had loved was gone. “Yes.
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