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. As the time when his identity had to be proved approached, this rigour was, in a trifling degree, relaxed, and a few persons were occasionally admitted to the ward, but only in the presence of Austin. " A deep indignant groan followed. But—It’s just this: who was to be hurt?” “I wish no one had to be hurt,” said Ann Veronica.
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