The lady's name's engraved inside, but so small I can scarcely read it. " "Ay; but I do mind her," cried Jack upon whom his comrade's observation had produced the desired effect. Ann Veronica ignored her friend’s confusion. Under another name,—not my own hateful one,—I will strive to distinguish myself in some foreign service, and win myself a reputation, or perish honourably. But—It’s just this: who was to be hurt?” “I wish no one had to be hurt,” said Ann Veronica. She never grew angry for anything her husband did: such anger as came to her was directed against the lazy, incompetent servant who was always snooping about in the inner temple—Spurlock's study.
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