Not the explosive vigour of the north-born, but that which would quietly meet physical hardships and bear them triumphantly. My destiny, I am afraid, is going to lead me into the ruts. . She had grabbed! She became less and less attentive to his meditative, self-complacent fragments of talk as she told herself this. The action steadied him; and there was a phase of irony, too, that helped. Ann Veronica intervened a little in the novelist discussion with a defence of Esmond and a denial that the Egoist was obscure, and when she spoke every one else stopped talking and listened. ” Annabel clutched her sister’s hands. That’s the difficulty. She has even found them accommodation in the house where she is putting up herself. CHAPTER XXX. .
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