"Can't you speak?" "I don't choose," replied Thames, sturdily; "and your brutality shan't make me. Hist!" cried he, as a scream was heard from without. He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing. Of the vast mass of these impressions Ann Veronica could make nothing at the time; there they were—Fact! She stored them away in a mind naturally retentive, as a squirrel stores away nuts, for further digestion.
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