Away up on the hillside was the little country railway station. Then as she drew nearer paint showed upon her face, and a harsh purpose behind the quiet expression of her open countenance, and a sort of unreality in her splendor betrayed itself for which Ann Veronica could not recall the right word—a word, half understood, that lurked and hid in her mind, the word “meretricious. ‘He could have little comfort there, indeed. Married the other and ran off after Mary died. She's fine. " CHAPTER XIII. Even the love of a mother does not sway him. A big breakfast is healthier anyway, so they say.
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