‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. He learnt that his sister was privately married—the name or rank of her husband could not be ascertained—and living in retirement in an obscure dwelling in the Borough, where she had given birth to a son. I know he is dead. . The emerald wings, slashed with scarlet and yellow, wheeling and swooping about her head, there among the wild plantain. One married as he wished and one against his wishes, and now here was Ann Veronica, his little Vee, discontented with her beautiful, safe, and sheltering home, going about with hatless friends to Socialist meetings and art-class dances, and displaying a disposition to carry her scientific ambitions to unwomanly lengths.
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