Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. (Fifteen pounds! And she wanted forty!) Part 4 It was, perhaps, the natural consequence of a long and tiring and exciting day that Ann Veronica should pass a broken and distressful night, a night in which the noble and self-subduing resolutions of Canongate displayed themselves for the first time in an atmosphere of almost lurid dismay. There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions. . As she went on, the story began to sound more and more like a recitation. I tell you that I love you, Anna, and I believe that you love me. “I can teach them so many things! Music, Latin, mathematics! Please do not take my Anna and Fritz away!” It was of no use.
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