Weeks hurled past, weeks that turned into months. But they climbed more than he had intended because Ann Veronica proved rather a good climber, steadyheaded and plucky, rather daring, but quite willing to be cautious at his command. You did not find him, but did you find his pistol? In the room beyond the bookroom there—a big room where a table had fallen. When she saw Ann Veronica she stood for a moment as if entranced, and then advanced with outstretched hands. “Idiot!” She raged inwardly while she walked along with that air of self-contained serenity that is proper to a young lady of nearly two-and-twenty under the eye of the world.
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