“Not for these things, O Ann Veronica, have you revolted,” it said; “and this is not your appropriate purpose. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing. A distant suggestion of chalets and a glimpse of the road set them talking for a time of the world they had left behind. In one of the big gates was a little door, and she rapped at this. ’ ‘No, you are a gentleman,’ she agreed. A piece of old blanket was fastened across her shoulders, and she had no other clothing except a petticoat. ‘For God’s sake, let go my hand,’ he begged. Her fingers found the lump she sought and, with a little effort, she dragged out the black-wrapped foil.
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