Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. “I will have your true reason. “Dear husband,” she murmured. F. They laughed and talked and stared about them. Then she was turning, ignoring the muttered cursing and the rattling that immediately ensued at the door. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. ” He rose from his chair, and walked restlessly up and down the room.
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