He's as savage and suspicious as the devil himself. Fortescue had not much ability to keep her sister, and a little while after her mother’s death Ann Veronica met Gwen suddenly on the staircase coming from her father’s study, shockingly dingy in dusty mourning and tearful and resentful, and after that Gwen receded from the Morningside Park world, and not even the begging letters and distressful communications that her father and aunt received, but only a vague intimation of dreadfulness, a leakage of incidental comment, flashes of paternal anger at “that blackguard,” came to Ann Veronica’s ears. It’s no good flying out at that, Vee; I didn’t arrange it. “I was watching you at Morningside Park, dear,” said Miss Miniver. It was not an affair of the conscience; it was vaguely based upon insolence and defiance. . Seventeen hours, sixteen hours. .
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