Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. “To be frank with you, Lady Lescelles, when your brother asked me the other day to be his wife I was under a false impression as regards his relations—with some other person. “Don’t!” cried Ann Veronica, struggling faintly, and he released her. You are my wife, and I am determined to claim you. She controlled herself, and answered meekly, “No. Mr. Wood and several serving-men, all well armed, rushed into the room. Besides, you've secrets which must not be disclosed. ” Resigned, she rosined the bow and tightened the loose strings. "He seems infatuated about the lad," observed Wild.
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