Sheppard let fall her basket. “I want a vote for myself,” she said. She was young and bright, little to no make-up except for lip-gloss, long, straight, glossy reddish blonde hair slightly past her shoulders. "Mother, I come to you. A granddaughter of mine!’ The idiocy of this notion stuck in his craw and he could think of nothing else for a moment. ” He pronounced this with an air of profound conviction and with his eyes on Ann Veronica’s face.
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