His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. “My dear boy,” she exclaimed. "I read those stories. For his own part he could not sufficiently admire the pluck of this lady, who, notwithstanding all that she had been through, had chosen to appear this evening rather than break her engagement. He could remember when women laid away their gowns in lavender—as this girl's mother had. He brightened as she took off her hood. "Where is the boy?" demanded Sir Rowland. He was not quite sure whether, after all, he had been wise. “Home, of course,” she answered. ” “No,” said Ann Veronica, offhandedly. "To be lonely! What is physical torture, if someone who loves you is nigh? But to be alone … as I am!… yes, and as you are! Oh, you haven't told me, but I can see with half an eye.
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