Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. In some incomprehensible way that back view made her feel sorry for Alice. ‘You wouldn’t know one end of a pistol from the other. CHAPTER I. Already he was dramatizing Ruth, involving her, now in some pearl thieving adventure, now in some impossible tale of a white goddess.
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