” “Bit starchy,” said Ann Veronica, and altered the key abruptly. But I do hope, Vee, I do hope—this is the end of these adventures. To-night all London believes that he was your husband. Do have another. Her mother had died when she was thirteen, her two much older sisters had married off—one submissively, one insubordinately; her two brothers had gone out into the world well ahead of her, and so she had made what she could of her father.
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