” Ann Veronica looked at the mildly pensive gray eyes and the comfortable, rather refined face with a penetrating curiosity. The open books she knew by heart; aye, they had been ground into her, morning and night. After that time, I shall place my setters on your heels. “How shall I put the question? What am I? What have I got to do with myself?. Idiote. She had been fighting down this thought for days: that Hoddy did not care, that he did not love her, that he had mistaken a vagary of the mind for a substance, and now regretted what he had done— married a girl who was not his equal in anything.
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