” He replied solemnly, looking straight into her eyes. “My dear,” she began, with an affectionate hand on Ann Veronica’s shoulder, “I do SO wish you would realize how it grieves your father. ‘Quite wrong, monsieur. After all, what did it matter?—it or anything else in the world? She was within reach of his arms, beautiful, compelling, herself as it seemed suddenly conscious of the light which was burning in his eyes. She went to her bedroom, but she did not go to bed.
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