The ribald demons that infested the back of Ann Veronica’s mind urged various facetious interrogations upon her, as, for example, where the witness had acquired his prose style. Yet her hands dropped, and she sighed deeply. She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. “I never planned it—And now I have begun—” She felt acutely that he was entitled to explanations, and as acutely that explanations were impossible that night. A quarter of an hour passed. But if I were you, I shouldn't warn Spurlock. ‘Stand where you are, or I shoot!’ Like lightning, thoughts zipped through her mind. The dog-fox cannot be far off, since the cub is found. Blueskin therefore had nothing to stop him. He laughed at her heartily, and she laughed too as she had not for a year.
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