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“I’m sorry, ma’am, to seem the cause of any disturbance, but this,” he pointed to Anna, “is my wife. ” CONTENTS ANN VERONICA CHAPTER THE FIRST CHAPTER THE SECOND CHAPTER THE THIRD CHAPTER THE FOURTH CHAPTER THE FIFTH CHAPTER THE SIXTH CHAPTER THE SEVENTH CHAPTER THE EIGHTH CHAPTER THE NINTH CHAPTER THE TENTH CHAPTER THE ELEVENTH CHAPTER THE TWELFTH CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH CHAPTER THE FIFTEENTH CHAPTER THE SIXTEENTH CHAPTER THE SEVENTEENTH ANN VERONICA CHAPTER THE FIRST ANN VERONICA TALKS TO HER FATHER Part 1 One Wednesday afternoon in late September, Ann Veronica Stanley came down from London in a state of solemn excitement and quite resolved to have things out with her father that very evening. Her head felt absurdly like one of those noddling manikins in the Hong-Kong curio-shops. And for many years, that was the way it was. There was a wild light in her eye, and her straight hair was out demonstrating and suffragetting upon some independent notions of its own. Mr. “You will go and see her,” he begged.
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