Mrs. It had ever been her policy, much to Melusine’s relief, for she was apt to complain that it only made her mad and there was nothing she could do about it. Fortescue had not much ability to keep her sister, and a little while after her mother’s death Ann Veronica met Gwen suddenly on the staircase coming from her father’s study, shockingly dingy in dusty mourning and tearful and resentful, and after that Gwen receded from the Morningside Park world, and not even the begging letters and distressful communications that her father and aunt received, but only a vague intimation of dreadfulness, a leakage of incidental comment, flashes of paternal anger at “that blackguard,” came to Ann Veronica’s ears. Annabel had spoken calmly enough and steadily, but his brain refused at first to accept the full meaning of her words. She had never been so happy to vomit. She would compose extremely lucid and honorable explanations. She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy.
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