\" They talked until midnight most nights. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. She could tell that he was leering at her. I'm a poor nurse. The key is in my trousers. ” She found it difficult to begin thinking, and indeed she was anything but clear what it was she had to think about. Her tone was icy. ” He took them from her and read them. You’re a piss-poor liar, John. ” “You said you loved me – did you mean it?” He said.
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