After class his routine was unchanged. "Ay, ay," rejoined Sheppard; "he may do what he pleases,—hang me, if he thinks proper,—if you wish it. “And now,” said Ann Veronica surveying her apartment with an unprecedented sense of proprietorship, “what is the next step?” She spent the evening in writing—it was a little difficult—to her father and— which was easier—to the Widgetts. I suppose because it IS the chief thing in life. There was more to be told, and this was as good a time as any. They'll be back soon enough—or not at all.
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