Part 2 Ann Veronica Stanley was twenty-one and a half years old. You mustn't go by what you read so much as by what you see and hear. ’ He threw a fulminating glance at Gerald. Jonathan smiled contemptuously. Sheila knew that the Eat & Shop on the corner of 53rd and Oleson was a flimsy front for an all-in-the-family whorehouse. Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. She gurgled. The blouse dried nicely, it would only need a touch of starch and a little ironing. ‘Have I not said so?’ ‘No, as it happens.
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