After dinner Ann Veronica went into the drawing-room with Miss Stanley, and her father went up to his den for his pipe and pensive petrography. It may be, it probably will all come to, nothing. That would come later. These sham ideals and advanced notions. She had not chosen her life, but she was foggy on whether or not it was right to deny others the right to join her in her suffering. "Eh-day! what's this?" cried Wood, looking up from beneath his spectacles.
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