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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

world; this time there would be no returning. She was at the end of 

girlhood and on the eve of a woman's crowning experience. She visited 

the corner that had been her own little garden--her forget-me-nots and 

candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she 

visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair 

with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been 

wont to read her secret letters. Here was the place behind the shed 

where she had used to hide from Roddy's persecutions, and here the 

border of herbaceous perennials under whose stems was fairyland. The 

back of the house had been the Alps for climbing, and the shrubs 

in front of it a Terai. The knots and broken pale that made the 

garden-fence scalable, and gave access to the fields behind, were still 

to be traced. And here against a wall were the plum-trees. In spite of 

God and wasps and her father, she had stolen plums; and once because of 

discovered misdeeds, and once because she had realized that her mother 

was dead, she had lain on her face in the unmown grass, beneath the 

elm-trees that came beyond the vegetables, and poured out her soul in 

weeping. 

 

Remote little Ann Veronica! She would never know the heart of that child 

again! That child had loved fairy princes with velvet suits and golden 

locks, and she was in love with a real man named Capes, with little 

gleams of gold on his cheek and a pleasant voice and firm and shapely 

hands. She was going to him soon and certainly, going to his strong, 

embracing arms. She was going through a new world with him side by side. 

She had been so busy with life that, for a vast gulf of time, as it 

seemed, she had given no thought to those ancient, imagined things of 

her childhood. Now, abruptly, they were real again, though very distant, 

and she had come to say farewell to them across one sundering year. 

 

She was unusually helpful at breakfast, and unselfish about the eggs: 

and then she went off to catch the train before her father's. She did 

this to please him. He hated travelling second-class with her--indeed, 

he never did--but he also disliked travelling in the same train when his 

daughter was in an inferior class, because of the look of the thing. 

So he liked to go by a different train. And in the Avenue she had an 

encounter with Ramage. 

 

It was an odd little encounter, that left vague and dubitable 

impressions in her mind. She was aware of him--a silk-hatted, 


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