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’ ‘As if you could stop her. I cannot go on. A certain irritation crept into his manner as he did so. Courtlaw, who was sitting by the bedside, bent over him. ” He plunged into one of his drawers, and brought up a small gold-foiled bottle. “Why could you not confide in us?” “Do what?” said Ann Veronica. Her eyelids fluttered with recognition, and she cried out softly. “It sounds too ridiculous. Do you think she does?” Ann Veronica picked among her salad with a judicial expression of face. Ramage, by a hundred skilful hints had led her to realize that the problem of her own life was inseparably associated with, and indeed only one special case of, the problems of any woman’s life, and that the problem of a woman’s life is love. ’ Fury was in her face.
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