CHAPTER II. She got up, put the neat cuffs she had made into her work-basket, and went to the bureau for the little cards in the morocco case. “And now,” said Ann Veronica surveying her apartment with an unprecedented sense of proprietorship, “what is the next step?” She spent the evening in writing—it was a little difficult—to her father and— which was easier—to the Widgetts. They were exquisite. “So Brendon and I,” he said, “have been troubled with the same fears. "You are a physician; you know the vagaries of men in liquor. Her motherly features creased into anxious wrinkles. But I never found any truth in the saying. ‘Oh, peste, you make me late!’ She glared up at Roding.
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