Dunstable’s contributions to the conversation were entirely in the form of nods; whenever Alderman Dunstable praised or blamed she nodded twice or thrice, according to the requirements of his emphasis. It was an unspoken curfew in the Beck house on week nights. The question ceased to be a tea-table talk, and became suddenly tragically real for Ann Veronica. You must—you shall be mine. “Heavens!” exclaimed Ann Veronica, with extraordinary passion.
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