"But I can guess what it's for. " The feminine vanities in Ruth were quiescent; nothing had ever occurred in her life to tingle them into action. ‘Laisse-moi. It is the same man, for he raved in the hospital, and they fetched me. ‘Now I see that you are mad indeed. She was trying by some wonderful, secret, and motionless gymnastics to restrain her tears. Fortescue had not much ability to keep her sister, and a little while after her mother’s death Ann Veronica met Gwen suddenly on the staircase coming from her father’s study, shockingly dingy in dusty mourning and tearful and resentful, and after that Gwen receded from the Morningside Park world, and not even the begging letters and distressful communications that her father and aunt received, but only a vague intimation of dreadfulness, a leakage of incidental comment, flashes of paternal anger at “that blackguard,” came to Ann Veronica’s ears. .
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