His attitude toward her was purely intellectual, free of any sentimentality, utterly selfish. “My dad is into this stuff. She tried surreptitiously to reach her own dagger, in its cunning hiding place in her petticoat. His large, coarse lips drew wider apart. "A thousand pounds," he observed, gloomily, "is a heavy price to pay for doubtful secrecy, when certain silence might be so cheaply procured. ” Chapter XIX “THIS IS NOT THE END” “I said some afternoon,” she remarked, throwing open her warm coat, and taking off her gloves, “but I certainly did not mean to-day. You mustn’t do things like that. But now Ann Veronica knew what was the matter with her.
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