“It’s my fault. “Now look here, Veronica, let us be plain with each other. What have you got to say?" "Too much," replied Kneebone, shaking his head; "sadly too much. It would be useless to tell her to go back, even heartless; and yet he could not advise her to go on, blindly, not knowing whether her aunt was dead or alive. " "But, Lord, man!—don't you ever get lonesome?" "Don't you?" "I'm too busy. They mean everything that women can mean—except submission. "We went through your belongings. "I didn't imagine for a moment that you'd accept it, but I thought it right to make you the offer. Ennison, or any other young man. ‘How dull it must have been for you, poor little one. All the furniture was moved, all the meals were disarranged, and everybody, Ann Veronica included, appeared in new, bright costumes.
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