Stanley, putting his hands on the table in the manner rather of a barrister than a solicitor, and regarding her balefully through his glasses with quite undisguised animosity, asked, “And may I presume to inquire, then, what you mean to do?—how do you propose to live?” “I shall live,” sobbed Ann Veronica. Wood, and you'll find that I've spoken the truth. “Hello, Vee!” he said. Shrinking involuntarily back into the farthest corner of the seat, Jack buried his face in his hands. He brought his mother to call, and as you know the Countess goes scarcely anywhere.
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