The ruffled chemise-front under the wide lapels of her waistcoat and jacket no longer quivered, and her pose, with the full cloth petticoat spreading about her, was relaxed. “My dear,” she began, with an affectionate hand on Ann Veronica’s shoulder, “I do SO wish you would realize how it grieves your father. "Do you hear me?" cried the lady, with increasing vehemence. ‘You ain’t got nothing on me. A coach was also in attendance, at a little distance. She is your sister, and God knows I wish her none.
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