” Ann Veronica fenced for a moment. She flung aside every plan she had in life, every discretion. ‘This is not love, Marthe. ‘What mischief?’ ‘I don’t know, but I’ll go bail you’re at something. Eggs were procured for her, and she sat out the subsequent emotions and eloquence with the dignity becoming an injured lady of good family. And how could I come home—when he locks me in rooms and all that?” “I do wish this wasn’t going on,” said Miss Stanley, after a pause. ‘Still more would I be so if he had come himself to tell me this. “You ARE a female thing at bottom,” he admitted.
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