It had been Ann Veronica’s lot as the youngest child to live in a home that became less animated and various as she grew up. Hitherto it had been qualified by her conception of all life as a compromise, by her new effort to be unexacting of life. Darting quickly to the chest that contained the priest’s vestments, she leapt onto it and reached her arm down to scrabble behind it on the floor. "I am very wicked," she said. . To work then he went, and with wonderful industry filed off two of the iron bars. ” She awoke out of a doze, as though she had never been sleeping.
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