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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

of disgust and horror. 

 

Already she had sent him twenty pounds, and never written to explain to 

him why it was she had not sent it back sharply directly he returned 

it. She ought to have written at once and told him exactly what had 

happened. Now if she sent fifteen pounds the suggestion that she had 

spent a five-pound note in the meanwhile would be irresistible. No! That 

was impossible. She would have just to keep the fifteen pounds until she 

could make it twenty. That might happen on her birthday--in August. 

 

She turned about, and was persecuted by visions, half memories, 

half dreams, of Ramage. He became ugly and monstrous, dunning her, 

threatening her, assailing her. 

 

"Confound sex from first to last!" said Ann Veronica. "Why can't we 

propagate by sexless spores, as the ferns do? We restrict each other, we 

badger each other, friendship is poisoned and buried under it!... I 

MUST pay off that forty pounds. I MUST." 

 

For a time there seemed no comfort for her even in Capes. She was to see 

Capes to-morrow, but now, in this state of misery she had achieved, she 

felt assured he would turn his back upon her, take no notice of her at 

all. And if he didn't, what was the good of seeing him? 

 

"I wish he was a woman," she said, "then I could make him my friend. I 

want him as my friend. I want to talk to him and go about with him. Just 

go about with him." 

 

She was silent for a time, with her nose on the pillow, and that brought 

her to: "What's the good of pretending? 

 

"I love him," she said aloud to the dim forms of her room, and repeated 

it, and went on to imagine herself doing acts of tragically dog-like 

devotion to the biologist, who, for the purposes of the drama, remained 

entirely unconscious of and indifferent to her proceedings. 

 

At last some anodyne formed itself from these exercises, 

and, with eyelashes wet with such feeble tears as only 

three-o'clock-in-the-morning pathos can distil, she fell asleep. 

 

 

 

 

 

Part 5 

 

 

Pursuant to some altogether private calculations she did not go up to 

the Imperial College until after mid-day, and she found the laboratory 

deserted, even as she desired. She went to the table under the end 

window at which she had been accustomed to work, and found it swept and 

garnished with full bottles of re-agents. Everything was very neat; it 

had evidently been straightened up and kept for her. She put down the 

sketch-books and apparatus she had brought with her, pulled out her 


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