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Elegant, a little scornful, she leaned slightly against the back of a chair and looked him steadily in the eyes. It was just a chance that we in particular hit against each other—nothing predestined about it. He put down his hat and umbrella, rested his hands on his hips, and regarded Ann Veronica firmly. “Are you going on again this winter with that scientific work of yours? It’s an instance of heredity, I suppose. A fever of shame ran through her being. I can understand now these newspapers when they talk of your magnificent philanthropy.
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