“Now, Veronica,” he pleaded, “Veronica, this is most unreasonable. I must have been very wound up. But I've not promised to stand by him yet; nor will I, unless he turns out an honest lad,—mind that. The conversation which her entrance had interrupted began to buzz again all around her. She came to adore them. ‘Good God!’ uttered Roding. There’s nothing happened at all!” She didn’t mean, he concluded, to give him any more trouble ever, and he was free to begin a fresh chromatic novel—he had just finished the Blue Lagoon, which he thought very beautiful and tender and absolutely irrelevant to Morningside Park—or work in peace at his microtome without bothering about her in the least. Annabel watched her with wide-open, terrified eyes.
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