” She looked thoughtfully into the fire. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. There was a deep groan, and the sound of a fall within. ” “What?” “That’s the devil of it!” “Devil of what?. He picked up the broken fiddle and beckoned. . " "No, no! I have had wicked thoughts. “It’s his birthday. " "You hear that," whispered Jack. He was also, had she known it, more than a little insincere. "And you will answer it frankly?" "Certainly. .
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