"Every inch of it," replied the woollen-draper. Something draws everybody. Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing. “I’m fine,” she said softly. “Ever yours, “ANNABEL. \" She knew he was blushing in the dark. "If I thought he lived——" observed Wood. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice.
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