Miss Stanley had determined from the outset to have the warmest affection for her youngest niece and to be a second mother in her life—a second and a better one; but she had found much to battle with, and there was much in herself that Ann Veronica failed to understand. It was a mad half-hour. "She has flown up stairs," replied the widow. Their soft, voluptuous bodies wove among each other to the faint notes of a lyre. When she looked into their eyes, her despair put her beyond tears.
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