Ann Veronica, who knew her dress became her, dropped a curtsy to her father’s regard. Winifred Wood was now in her twentieth year. And they could talk, they found; and never once, it seemed, did their meaning and intention hitch. Sir John gave his order, deliberately stumbling now and then over a word, and anglicizing others. It is a matter of degree. Concealed among the trees that edged the estate grounds, the watchers paused. Heaven forbid. In the afternoon she had considered certain doubts very carefully, and decided on a more emphatic course of action. She got up, as she had been told to do, at his appearance, and he amazed her by sitting down, according to custom, on her stool. The young man desperately ill and the girl taking care of him! Of course, there could be only one ending to such a bout with liquor, and that ending had come perhaps suddenly but not surprisingly. He had taken it back.
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