CHAPTER XIV. Depend upon it, there is a place for you—waiting. My very sentences stumble and give way. “I suppose, daddy, you’ve no objection to my going on with my work at the Imperial College?” she asked. Great vistas of history opened, and she and her aunt were near reverting to the primitive and passionate and entirely indecorous arboreal—were swinging from branches by the arms, and really going on quite dreadfully—when their arrival at the Palsworthys’ happily checked this play of fancy, and brought Ann Veronica back to the exigencies of the wrappered life again. END OF THE SECOND EPOCH. She has already forgotten it. ‘Ha! Just the person I want.
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