Then one old crone, short-sighted and shaky-handed, called Ann Veronica “dearie,” and made some remark, obscure and slangy, of which the spirit rather than the words penetrated to her understanding. The doll she had never owned, the cat and the dog that had never been hers: here they were, strangely incorporated in this sleeping man. You’ve placed me in a very exceptional position, Miss Stanley. Understand me! I forbid it.
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