Senior year started with a whimper. ’ ‘Of course I am, imbecile,’ she snapped, unconsciously echoing her greatniece. ‘Or do I arrest you and have these soldiers march you off to gaol?’ A sweep of his arm indicated the array of military strength on the benches, every eye of which was trained on the little scene being enacted before them. ‘Difficult, I grant you. They were ingenious disguises of gilt paper destructively gummed, it would seem, to Ann Veronicas’ best dancing-slippers. . Both of them. Mr.
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