Far away there was the one woman for this boy of mine—some human being who would understand the dear fool better than all the rest of the world. Her knees were trembling, her whole frame was shaken with sobs. You could not have aided and assisted us more effectively by trying to drown yourself in the sea. The quiet encounter and home-coming Ann Veronica and she had contemplated was entirely disorganized by this misadventure; there were no adequate explanations, and after they had settled things at Ann Veronica’s lodgings, they reached home in the early afternoon estranged and depressed, with headaches and the trumpet voice of the indomitable Kitty Brett still ringing in their ears. He was a shy boy outwardly but she knew him better in his thoughts, in which perhaps she had already taken upon the role of lover. And how could I come home—when he locks me in rooms and all that?” “I do wish this wasn’t going on,” said Miss Stanley, after a pause.
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