She had thought—What had she thought? That this dependence of women was but an illusion which needed only to be denied to vanish. He glanced down between the still narrow distance that lay between Melusine and himself, and discovered her hand there, a very small dagger within it. ” Ann Veronica had three things very definitely settled by the time when, a little after mid-day, she found herself perched up on a gate between a bridle-path and a field that commanded the whole wide stretch of country between Chalking and Waldersham. She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. She did not therefore reveal to him that he had guaged her with accuracy. 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. “I wonder if there is anything wrong with my manners,” she said. Quite ordinary.
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