The thought allured him, and therein lay the danger. He climbed on top of her, pressing her into the couch cushions, the gown billowing around them like a cotton candy parachute. Stanley, putting his hands on the table in the manner rather of a barrister than a solicitor, and regarding her balefully through his glasses with quite undisguised animosity, asked, “And may I presume to inquire, then, what you mean to do?—how do you propose to live?” “I shall live,” sobbed Ann Veronica.
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