He glanced up. Nature is a mother; her sympathies have always been feminist, and she has tempered the man to the shorn woman. The agonized mother could scarcely repress a scream at the spectacle that met her gaze. “My dear,” she began, with an affectionate hand on Ann Veronica’s shoulder, “I do SO wish you would realize how it grieves your father. ” Annabel, who was looking very well, and who was most becomingly dressed, moved to a seat from which she could command a view of the road outside.
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