“I wonder,” said Ann Veronica at last, “if I am beautiful? I wonder if I shall ever shine like a light, like a translucent goddess?— “I wonder— “I suppose girls and women have prayed for this, have come to this—In Babylon, in Nineveh. He was in a curious state of desperation. 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. "Why came she here?" "She could not resist the hand of fate which drew her hither," replied Sir Cecil, mournfully. Death belongs to God, young man.
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