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ANN VERONICA TALKS TO HER FATHER-1-2
ANN VERONICA TALKS TO HER FATHER-3-4
ANN VERONICA TALKS TO HER FATHER-5-6
ANN VERONICA TALKS TO HER FATHER-7
ANN VERONICA GATHERS POINTS OF VIEW-1-2
ANN VERONICA GATHERS POINTS OF VIEW-3
THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS-1-2
THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS-3-4-5
THE MORNING OF THE CRISIS-6-7
THE CRISIS-1-2-3-4
THE FLIGHT TO LONDON-1-2-3
THE FLIGHT TO LONDON-4-5-6
EXPOSTULATIONS-1-2-3-4
EXPOSTULATIONS-5-6
IDEALS AND A REALITY-1-2
IDEALS AND A REALITY-3-4
IDEALS AND A REALITY-5-6-7
BIOLOGY-1-2
BIOLOGY-3-4-5-6
BIOLOGY-7-8-9
DISCORDS-1
DISCORDS-2-3-4
DISCORDS-5-6-8-9
THE SUFFRAGETTES-1-2-3
THE SUFFRAGETTES-4-5
THOUGHTS IN PRISON-1-2-3-4-5-6
ANN VERONICA PUTS THINGS IN ORDER-1-2-3-4-5-6-7
THE SAPPHIRE RING-1-2-3-4
THE SAPPHIRE RING-5-6
THE COLLAPSE OF THE PENITENT-1-2-3
THE COLLAPSE OF THE PENITENT-4-5-6
THE LAST DAYS AT HOME-1-2-3
IN THE MOUNTAINS-1-2-3-4
IN THE MOUNTAINS-5-6-7-8-9-10-11
IN PERSPECTIVE-1-2-3

her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door. Her 

father intercepted her, and for a moment she and he struggled with their 

hands upon the latch. A common rage flushed their faces. "Let go!" she 

gasped at him, a blaze of anger. 

 

"Veronica!" cried Miss Stanley, warningly, and, "Peter!" 

 

For a moment they seemed on the verge of an altogether desperate 

scuffle. Never for a moment had violence come between these two since 

long ago he had, in spite of her mother's protest in the background, 

carried her kicking and squalling to the nursery for some forgotten 

crime. With something near to horror they found themselves thus 

confronted. 

 

The door was fastened by a catch and a latch with an inside key, to 

which at night a chain and two bolts were added. Carefully abstaining 

from thrusting against each other, Ann Veronica and her father began an 

absurdly desperate struggle, the one to open the door, the other to keep 

it fastened. She seized the key, and he grasped her hand and squeezed 

it roughly and painfully between the handle and the ward as she tried to 

turn it. His grip twisted her wrist. She cried out with the pain of it. 

 

A wild passion of shame and self-disgust swept over her. Her spirit 

awoke in dismay to an affection in ruins, to the immense undignified 

disaster that had come to them. 

 

Abruptly she desisted, recoiled, and turned and fled up-stairs. 

 

She made noises between weeping and laughter as she went. She gained her 

room, and slammed her door and locked it as though she feared violence 

and pursuit. 

 

"Oh God!" she cried, "Oh God!" and flung aside her opera-cloak, and for 

a time walked about the room--a Corsair's bride at a crisis of emotion. 

"Why can't he reason with me," she said, again and again, "instead of 

doing this?" 

 

 

 

Part 3 

 

 

There presently came a phase in which she said: "I WON'T stand it even 

now. I will go to-night." 

 

She went as far as her door, then turned to the window. She opened 

this and scrambled out--a thing she had not done for five long years of 

adolescence--upon the leaded space above the built-out bath-room on the 

first floor. Once upon a time she and Roddy had descended thence by the 

drain-pipe. 

 

But things that a girl of sixteen may do in short skirts are not 

things to be done by a young lady of twenty-one in fancy dress and 

an opera-cloak, and just as she was coming unaided to an adequate 

realization of this, she discovered Mr. Pragmar, the wholesale druggist, 


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