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gratia plena; Dominus tecum; Benedicta tu in mulieribus et

benedictus fructus ventris tui Jesus。 Ave Maria; Sancta Maria;

ora pro nobis peccatoribus; nunc et in hora mortis nostrae;

Amen。〃

It was not right; somehow。 What these words meant when

translated was not the same as the pale rosary meant。 There was

a discrepancy; a falsehood。 It irritated her to say; 〃Dominus

tecum;〃 or; 〃benedicta tu in mulieribus。〃 She loved the mystic

words; 〃Ave Maria; Sancta Maria;〃 she was moved by 〃benedictus

fructus ventris tui Jesus;〃 and by 〃nunc et in hora mortis

nostrae。〃 But none of it was quite real。 It was not

satisfactory; somehow。

She avoided her rosary; because; moving her with curious

passion as it did; it meant only these not very

significant things。 She put it away。 It was her instinct to put

all these things away。 It was her instinct to avoid thinking; to

avoid it; to save herself。

She was seventeen; touchy; full of spirits; and very moody:

quick to flush; and always uneasy; uncertain。 For some reason or

other; she turned more to her father; she felt almost flashes of

hatred for her mother。 Her mother's dark muzzle and curiously

insidious ways; her mother's utter surety and confidence; her

strange satisfaction; even triumph; her mother's way of laughing

at things and her mother's silent overriding of vexatious

propositions; most of all her mother's triumphant power maddened

the girl。

She became sudden and incalculable。 Often she stood at the

window; looking out; as if she wanted to go。 Sometimes she went;

she mixed with people。 But always she came home in anger; as if

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