The thought of the picture but added to her despondency. ” “So far as one can judge from the system in practice,” said Ann Veronica, speaking in a loud, common-sense, detached tone, and beginning to walk slowly but resolutely toward the lawn, “it doesn’t work. Yet her aunt, with a ringed hand flitting to her lips and a puzzled, worried look in her eyes, deaf to all this riot of warmth and flitting desire, was playing Patience—playing Patience, as if Dionysius and her curate had died together. . ” “Nor I,” said Ann Veronica. Dizzily, she grabbed at the mantel for support and, resting her head on her hands, paid no heed to a betraying sound behind her—until an unexpected arm encircled her. “Sir John,” her aunt repeated, with thin emphasis, “is coming to see your sister. She flung aside every plan she had in life, every discretion. You spoke just now of a youth whom Mr.
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