Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1. “My dear Vee!” Her voice became very low. And yet—such is the buoyancy of youth—within a fortnight he began his first novel, pretending to himself that it was on Ruth's account. Ann Veronica looked bright and a little elated, and she disregarded her father’s invitation to be seated. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand.
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