“But, my dear!” said Ann Veronica’s aunt. "Sir Rowland is your uncle—he will be your guardian—he will protect you. And, without another word, he seized the table with both hands, and upset it; scattering plates, dishes, bottles, jugs, and glasses far and wide. I’m not such a bad sort. She went on from street to street, and all the glory of London had departed. “But frankly, I mean to fight this through if I possibly can.
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