In the adjacent apartment Ann Veronica found a middle-aged woman with a tired face under the tired hat she wore, sitting at a desk opening letters while a dusky, untidy girl of eight-or nine-and-twenty hammered industriously at a typewriter. Don’t be afraid that I shall stunt it. An admirable alternative presented itself and she sighed, spreading her hands. ” A sudden sense of the gravity of this thing came home to Anna. Balanced on his nose were enormous tortoise-shell spectacles. There is so little abandon, so little real joyousness. Her lips were apart, but no breath seemed to issue from them; and, but for a slight—very slight palpitation of the bosom, the vital principle might be supposed to be extinct. "I disown you.
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