Ann Veronica stood in the twilight room staring at the door that had slammed upon her aunt, her pocket-handkerchief rolled tightly in her hand. We had such a pride in you, such hope in you. With a well-simulated unconcern and a heightened color she finished her breakfast. “Don’t!” she begged. ’ ‘Mercy me,’ gasped the nun. Then you won't tell me where he's going?" "I will tell you six months from now.
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