And yet for all that— It got into Ann Veronica’s nights at last and kept her awake, the perplexing contrast between the advanced thought and the advanced thinker. She cursed the treachery of memory, its frailty and spottiness. Seeing the footman about to follow her in, Gerald clamped a hand onto his shoulder. That’s the flat business situation. "Devilish strange!" thought he, chuckling to himself; "queer business! Capital trick of the cull in the cloak to make another person's brat stand the brunt for his own—capital! ha! ha! Won't do, though. Well, come back in half an hour.
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