‘I’m on your side. A young man —almost a boy, slight, dark, and with his brother’s deep grey eyes—came across the room to her. Who is it?” The man came a little further into the room. Stanley, putting his hands on the table in the manner rather of a barrister than a solicitor, and regarding her balefully through his glasses with quite undisguised animosity, asked, “And may I presume to inquire, then, what you mean to do?—how do you propose to live?” “I shall live,” sobbed Ann Veronica. I was helpless.
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