Ann Veronica had no answer for a moment. Like a nightmare memory that returned again and again to haunt her. She ought to have been disposed to faint and scream at all these happenings; she ought to have maintained a front of outraged dignity to veil the sinking of her heart. “I suppose,” said her father, “I have read at least half the novels that have been at all successful during the last twenty years. ” “You fellows,” Ennison said quietly, “are getting a little wild.
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