” 189 “Are you feeling okay?” She could feel a parade of ants dotting her skin. On a stool eight feet high sat a small boy in a faded blue cotton, his face like that of young Buddha. Her eye met Miss Stanley’s understandingly, and she was if anything a trifle more affectionate in her greeting to Ann Veronica. One main avenue was for her to become a sort of salaried accessory wife or mother, to be a governess or an assistant schoolmistress, or a very high type of governess-nurse.
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