The daughters, he had hoped, would be their mother’s care. “Ann Veronica has never looked quite so well, I think,” said Capes, clinging,
because of a preconceived plan, to the suppressed topic. ’
‘Yes, that is reasonable,’ agreed Melusine, nodding. Ann Veronica
found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to
a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him,
thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. The turnkey looked
round the next moment, but the manoeuvre escaped his observation. His father and mother were a lawyer and a
doctor, respectively. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful
look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately
acted within its walls. The arrangement had been made by the town
matchmaker, a frightening old oak of a man. The likelihood is
that I shan’t see the wench again. But, not daring to confess his want of comprehension,
he made a profound reverence, and retired. . .
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 10-07-2024 10:07:22