“Never—but, by Jove, you had a narrow escape,” Ennison exclaimed. He had informed her that to leave him would be a choice to live a life of meager subsistence. They are blinded to all fine and subtle things —they look at life with bloodshot eyes and dilated nostrils. ‘Ain’t no call for you to go a-blaming of yourself. But Jack eluded their grasp. “And where are YOU going?” he said. 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.
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