" "Have I ever broken my word in such matters, that he dares put the question?" rejoined Jonathan sternly. Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. The sky was cloudless, effulgent blue. And yet for all that— It got into Ann Veronica’s nights at last and kept her awake, the perplexing contrast between the advanced thought and the advanced thinker. "There!" she cried, laughing, "that'll teach you to lay hands upon me again. This child was frequently disconcerting.
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