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The recollection of the forlorn and loveless years—stirred into consciousness by the unexpected confrontation—bent her as the high wind bends the water-reed. \"He still likes you, I believe. ” “I suppose all men,” said Ann Veronica, in a tone of detached criticism, “get some such entanglement. She’s taken my sword. “You are wrong! I did not think you thought such things. The little girl uttered no remonstrance; but, replacing the flowers in the basket, burst into tears, and withdrew. Each time also we quarrel, and even if you are laughing very much, you become angry.
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