"Where is my mother?" he added, regarding the knight with a searching glance. This intercourse, which had been planned to warm Ann Veronica to a familiar affection with Ramage, was certainly warming Ramage to a constantly deepening interest in Ann Veronica. Then he sat down again in a chair and said that people who wrote novels ought to be strung up. But even with that furniture it remained extremely vague, the possible good and the possible evil as well! The possible evil! “I’ll go,” said Ann Veronica for the hundredth time.
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