Stanley, putting his hands on the table in the manner rather of a barrister than a solicitor, and regarding her balefully through his glasses with quite undisguised animosity, asked, “And may I presume to inquire, then, what you mean to do?—how do you propose to live?” “I shall live,” sobbed Ann Veronica. ” “It is over for now,” he answered, “but I cannot bear to think that you are subject to this sort of thing. So, instead, they talked of dancing and what it might mean in a human life. "She is here," cried Jack, darting forward. He died in the war. There was a gentle rustling of skirts. Her aunt was blandly amiable above a certain tremulous undertow, and talked as if to a caller about the alarming spread of marigolds that summer at the end of the garden, a sort of Yellow Peril to all the smaller hardy annuals, while her father brought some papers to table and presented himself as preoccupied with them. So he shut his eyes. ‘Softly, you say?’ she uttered, raging.
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