"Ah!" exclaimed Sir James. “I was frightened then,” she declared. The challenge gave her
courage. Part 3
Ann Veronica’s father was a solicitor with a good deal of company business: a
lean, trustworthy, worried-looking, neuralgic, clean-shaven man of fifty-three,
with a hard mouth, a sharp nose, iron-gray hair, gray eyes, gold-framed glasses,
and a small, circular baldness at the crown of his head. Now let us forget it. But in its stead—toward
morning—there appeared another idea which appealed to him as sublime,
appealed to the primitive conscience, to his artistic sense of the drama, to the
poet and the novelist in him. The
man’s as obstinate as a mule. You’re dogmatic. “Anna,” he said, “you make it all indescribably hard for me. “Before I took up the Suffrage,” a firm, flat voice remarked, “I could scarcely
walk up-stairs without palpitations. She awoke at 11:12 am, her foster sister
snoring in the bed across the room. He rambled in an unfortunate monotone,
the result of his innate fear of public speaking. He turned.
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This video was uploaded to damaulifm.org on 11-07-2024 11:33:30