He began to tell me something—and stopped. ‘In fact you admitted only that you had no more weapons. What do you think people will make of that? What will this lover of yours make of that?” At intervals Ann Veronica demanded to go, declaring her undying resolve to repay him at any cost, and made short movements doorward. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother.
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