Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. “What ought you to do?” “I’ve hunted up all sorts of things.
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