Lucy cringed, her eyes widening. She felt sleepy and unusually irritable. Come into the parlour, Winifred, and dry your eyes directly, or I'll send you to bed. 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. Fiercely defensive, as usual.
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