“My dear,” she began, with an affectionate hand on Ann Veronica’s shoulder, “I do SO wish you would realize how it grieves your father. I didn’t! I didn’t! After all—” For a time her mind ran on daintiness and its defensive restraints as though it was the one desirable thing. In others, she acts with the speed and surety of the loosed arrow. It had been a trying day. He had only been prevented, indeed, by a fear of Mrs. "That I can't say.
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