Chapter Seven ‘Oh, my God,’ burst from Gerald. “More than that, he arrived to-day at the boarding-house where I am staying, greeted me with a theatrical start, and claimed me—as his wife. Why not? Were not his own sentiments inclined in favour of the patient? But fifty gold was fifty gold. Knew something was up. All of us were fussy, colicky babies from what she tells me. “A nice time of anxiety you’ve given me, young lady,” he said, as he entered the room. Me—I’m nothing but a country wench, and one who went to the bad. I defy you to explain it away. Of the vast mass of these impressions Ann Veronica could make nothing at the time; there they were—Fact! She stored them away in a mind naturally retentive, as a squirrel stores away nuts, for further digestion. ” Ann Veronica sat down, and Ramage’s eager eyes feasted on her. "This is strange," said Jack, under his breath. Now, she was the very reverse of all this.
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