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"It is her child!" shrieked Rowland, in a voice heard above the howling of the tempest, "risen from this roaring abyss to torment me. "What for?" demanded Wood. Her words, as she said them, seemed to her to mean nothing, and there was so much that struggled for expression. You foolish girl!” Ann Veronica took that in silence. “What? She replied, still hazy. " "Norris!" gasped Lady Trafford, trembling violently. But to-day he did not get beyond half a dozen desultory start-offs. “A serious question. “And, after all, I am just one common person!” She watched the throb of the arteries in the stem of her neck, and put her hand at last gently and almost timidly to where her heart beat beneath her breast. . You are an artist by the Divine right of birth, but whatever form of expression may come to you at some time it will not be painting. I had to stay in school no matter how sick I was. Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing.
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