Fortunately, I've secured the proof of my birth. Ann Veronica found herself in the presence of the most disconcerting fact in human experience, the kindliness of people you believe to be thoroughly wrong. “Oh Christ! How old were you?” “Just—well, I was young. Clarice rubbed her belly, singing songs to the unborn baby. But then—Oh! Madam, there are moments—moments of darkness, which overshadow a whole existence—in the lives of the poor houseless wretches who traverse the streets, when reason is well-nigh benighted; when the horrible promptings of despair can, alone, be listened to; and when vice itself assumes the aspect of virtue. These little squares of coloured paper interested her mightily—hotel labels. And that would spoil it. Mrs. ‘She knows what she’s up against. He was ruffled, and his ears were red, no doubt from some adjacent controversy. He had only to recall this fact (which he did in each crisis) to erect a barrier she could not go around or over.
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