Ann Veronica, who knew her dress became her, dropped a curtsy to her father’s regard. ‘There’s a surgeon on his way, and my men are under orders to do whatever is needful. At the back of her mind there seemed always one irrelevant qualifying spectator whose presence she sought to disregard. We girls, my sister and I, were left quite alone when our father died, and I made up my mind to make some little place in the world for myself. To-morrow I shall come and talk to you again—of other things. “DEAR MR.
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