“YOU wouldn’t like to be independent?” he asked, abruptly. " Still the voice was without emotion; calm, colourless. It’s just upon my lunch-time. In his condition the boy apparently had been as safe as in the lock-up. We shall never have an heir, you and I! My family is crumbling; all of my brothers are dead. He did like her, anyhow; he was always pleased to be with her. 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.
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