“But, my dear!” said Ann Veronica’s aunt. On the present occasion, he appeared to have bestowed more than ordinary attention on his toilette. “I shall never marry,” said Ann Veronica, resolutely; “I’m not the sort. At Morningside Park I feel as though all my growing up was presently to stop, as though I was being shut in from the light of life, and, as they say in botany, etiolated. I must finish it at home. ’ The lady looked unexpectedly smug. .
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