“You delicate female!” “Who cares,” said Ann Veronica, “seeing it’s you? Warm, soft little wonders! Of course I want them. " "It's mine, I'll be sworn," rejoined Wood. But his gloom appeared to be occasioned by remorse, rather than sorrow. She had been quite convinced that an engagement with him and at last a marriage had exactly that quality of compromise which distinguishes the ways of the wise. ‘I can’t think how I’ve tolerated myself all these years.
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