Her heels made contact with Rhea’s knees and hobbled her with a crack. “It’s either now or never,” said Ann Veronica, again ascending this stile. It was his tall stance and his pale skin that drew him out of the crowd. If she’s over, he probably knows all about it. One married as he wished and one against his wishes, and now here was Ann Veronica, his little Vee, discontented with her beautiful, safe, and sheltering home, going about with hatless friends to Socialist meetings and art-class dances, and displaying a disposition to carry her scientific ambitions to unwomanly lengths.
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