” “When is Michaelmas Day?” said Ann Veronica, a little abruptly. She spoke slowly. "It was given me by a man who was drinking t'other night with Blueskin at the Lion! and who, though he slouched his hat over his eyes, and muffled his chin in a handkerchief, must have been Jonathan Wild. Both advanced towards it, when, by the light of the lantern, Wood beheld, in the countenance of the stranger, the well-remembered and stern features of Rowland. It was the first day you kissed me, under the willows, coming into Veraz. During all their long comradeship he had never so much as ventured to hold her fingers. The important secret remained locked in my breast, but I resolved to be avenged. Then she would have quiet times, in which she would say to herself, “Now look here! Let me think it all out!” For the first time, it seemed to her, she faced the facts of a woman’s position in the world—the meagre realities of such freedom as it permitted her, the almost unavoidable obligation to some individual man under which she must labor for even a foothold in the world.
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