It happened that at the extremest point of Ann Veronica’s social circle from the Widgetts was the family of the Morningside Park horsedealer, a company of extremely dressy and hilarious young women, with one equestrian brother addicted to fancy waistcoats, cigars, and facial spots. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. "My name is Ruth Enschede. His countenance was almost as white and rigid as that of the corpse by his side. Ennison seemed to feel already the shadow of tragedy approaching. She savored the sweetness of his lips, all of his great youth and passion and longed for his innocence, his complete lack of the knowledge of terrible things.
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