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How she had coveted her mother’s beauty and sought to emulate it, if only to please her. Fearful that she had given herself away, she sank back down onto her stool. “Think of what Lady Palsworthy will say! Think of what”—So-and-so —“will say! What are we to tell people? “Besides, what am I to tell your father?” At first it had not been at all clear to Ann Veronica that she would refuse to return home; she had had some dream of a capitulation that should leave her an enlarged and defined freedom, but as her aunt put this aspect and that of her flight to her, as she wandered illogically and inconsistently from one urgent consideration to another, as she mingled assurances and aspects and emotions, it became clearer and clearer to the girl that there could be little or no change in the position of things if she returned. “You remember the man in Paris who used to follow me about—Meysey Hill they called him?” He nodded. "Is it poison?" she asked. CHAPTER XIII. ” Ann Veronica fenced for a moment. Would I could purchase his apathy as easily as I can procure his assistance. "My son," she murmured, wringing her hands piteously—, "my son the companion of thieves! My son in Jonathan Wild's power! It cannot be. He had diverged only a little from the truth when he said that his chief interest in life was women. ” She said.
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