We men are like children. “Why, among other things, did I put my knuckles in his neck—deliberately to hurt him?” She tried to sound the humorous note. "If any one's to blame, it's me. After dinner Ann Veronica went into the drawing-room with Miss Stanley, and her father went up to his den for his pipe and pensive petrography. " "Then this is not my child?" exclaimed she, with increased astonishment. “Didn’t you know he was married?” asked Miss Klegg, and was struck by a thought that made her glance quickly at her companion.
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