” Annabel, who was looking very well, and who was most becomingly dressed, moved to a seat from which she could command a view of the road outside. Wasn’t it—a little bit of a scene?” “Oh! let me see. Give me the books. And what on earth do you want to darken your eyebrows and use so much make-up for at your age? You’re exactly twenty-three, and you’re got up as much as a woman of forty-five. One married as he wished and one against his wishes, and now here was Ann Veronica, his little Vee, discontented with her beautiful, safe, and sheltering home, going about with hatless friends to Socialist meetings and art-class dances, and displaying a disposition to carry her scientific ambitions to unwomanly lengths. Wanton! Had I been one, even God would have forgiven me, understanding. “Why, I do not know.
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