What with these converging roofs that shut out all but a hand's breadth of the sky, sunshine was rare at this point. Stanley, putting his hands on the table in the manner rather of a barrister than a solicitor, and regarding her balefully through his glasses with quite undisguised animosity, asked, “And may I presume to inquire, then, what you mean to do?—how do you propose to live?” “I shall live,” sobbed Ann Veronica. Once or twice she commented upon it, but she knew that it was resultant of his fear of her impending departure. He was mad.
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