She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. ’ For a moment he looked daunted. There was a moment’s breathless and disappointed silence. And we are not traders looking at equivalents. . The same pale white buttocks, the same freckles in the same unchanging patterns on her collarbone that all of her mother’s potions had never been able to erase. . The women, Ann Veronica thought, were not quite so interesting as the men.
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