“It’s no sort of good, Ann Veronica, pretending one does believe when one doesn’t. It’s a sort of guarantee of confidence. He had looked at it before without comprehension. Fortescue had not much ability to keep her sister, and a little while after her mother’s death Ann Veronica met Gwen suddenly on the staircase coming from her father’s study, shockingly dingy in dusty mourning and tearful and resentful, and after that Gwen receded from the Morningside Park world, and not even the begging letters and distressful communications that her father and aunt received, but only a vague intimation of dreadfulness, a leakage of incidental comment, flashes of paternal anger at “that blackguard,” came to Ann Veronica’s ears. And then, there would be the question of money. Mother had forced Lucy to memorize the ingredients of the stews, fairly beating them into her, spanking her backside when she rebelled. ’ The dagger was in her hand.
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