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She stepped into his arms. "I owe you nothing," he repeated, dully. She was furiously angry. “I’m thirsty. ” “I do it—of my own free will,” said Ann Veronica, kissing his hand again. “I have not quarrelled with her. He had conveyed it to her, not verbally, but by means of a letter, which seemed to her a singularly ignoble method of prohibition. I was grounded for the last two weeks. “Why, what is the matter with you? What do you mean?” Annabel laughed scornfully.
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