“Why could you not confide in us?” “Do what?” said Ann Veronica. It was not due to shyness: it was the inherent instinct of the Woman, a protective fear that she must retain some elements of mystery in order to hold the interest of the male. Now, it was a wilderness of weeds. You have been to me like a mother, not only a wetnurse. He must not in any way call their attention to it. Now you haven’t the ghost of one—not if you play the game fair.
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