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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

preparation-room. He sat down on the sill of the open window, folded his 

arms, and stared straight before him for a long time over the wilderness 

of tiles and chimney-pots into a sky that was blue and empty. He was not 

addicted to monologue, and the only audible comment he permitted himself 

at first upon a universe that was evidently anything but satisfactory to 

him that afternoon, was one compact and entirely unassigned "Damn!" 

 

The word must have had some gratifying quality, because he repeated 

it. Then he stood up and repeated it again. "The fool I have been!" he 

cried; and now speech was coming to him. He tried this sentence with 

expletives. "Ass!" he went on, still warming. "Muck-headed moral ass! I 

ought to have done anything. 

 

"I ought to have done anything! 

 

"What's a man for? 

 

"Friendship!" 

 

He doubled up his fist, and seemed to contemplate thrusting it through 

the window. He turned his back on that temptation. Then suddenly he 

seized a new preparation bottle that stood upon his table and contained 

the better part of a week's work--a displayed dissection of a snail, 

beautifully done--and hurled it across the room, to smash resoundingly 

upon the cemented floor under the bookcase; then, without either haste 

or pause, he swept his arm along a shelf of re-agents and sent them to 

mingle with the debris on the floor. They fell in a diapason of smashes. 

"H'm!" he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage. "Silly!" he 

remarked after a pause. "One hardly knows--all the time." 

 

He put his hands in his pockets, his mouth puckered to a whistle, and he 

went to the door of the outer preparation-room and stood there, looking, 

save for the faintest intensification of his natural ruddiness, the 

embodiment of blond serenity. 

 

"Gellett," he called, "just come and clear up a mess, will you? I've 

smashed some things." 

 

 

 

Part 3 

 

 

There was one serious flaw in Ann Veronica's arrangements for 

self-rehabilitation, and that was Ramage. He hung over her--he and his 

loan to her and his connection with her and that terrible evening--a 

vague, disconcerting possibility of annoyance and exposure. She could 

not see any relief from this anxiety except repayment, and repayment 

seemed impossible. The raising of twenty-five pounds was a task 

altogether beyond her powers. Her birthday was four months away, and 

that, at its extremist point, might give her another five pounds. 


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