" Jonathan's eyes glistened as he told over the notes. "What is your name?" "Ruth. You have somewhere to go to in London, I hope. " "Your prisoner!" echoed Jonathan, derisively. “It was a bad day for me,” he said, speaking slowly and painfully. He was sitting back from the table now, with one arm over the back of his green chair and the other resting on the little table. Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing.
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