" "As like as life, Sir," observed Austin, peeping over Thornhill's shoulder at the portrait. There was a strained, eager expression on his face. Probably some woman on the loose; they were as thick as flies over here—dizzy blondes. This lifeless appearance was heightened by the extreme sharpness of her features—especially the nose and chin,—and by the emaciation of her limbs, which was painfully distinct through her drapery. One married as he wished and one against his wishes, and now here was Ann Veronica, his little Vee, discontented with her beautiful, safe, and sheltering home, going about with hatless friends to Socialist meetings and art-class dances, and displaying a disposition to carry her scientific ambitions to unwomanly lengths. Below her stretched a valley of rich meadowland, of yellow cornfields, and beyond moorland hillside glorious with purple heather and golden gorse. Mr. " "So did I," said Winifred. How much Mary knew is a mystery.
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