The fragrance of dryer sheets lay upon her like the snow that now drifted peacefully outside. He was all alone, like herself. Neither father, aunt, nor brothers made a sign, and then one afternoon in early February her aunt came up in a state between expostulation and dignified resentment, but obviously very anxious for Ann Veronica’s welfare. 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. Here again instinct guided her.
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