“And what was that dreadful confession you had to make?” he was saying. “The primitive government was the Matriarchate. I worshipped women long before I found any woman I might ever hope to worship. There isn’t a husband breathing, Annabel, who wouldn’t have blessed that pistol in your hands, and prayed God that the bullet might go straight. “The life of a private secretary is positively one of slavery. I came here peaceably, and I only ask for a few words with you. “What ought you to do?” “I’ve hunted up all sorts of things. Are you going to have any apple-tart, Stanley? The apple-tart’s been very good lately—very good!” Part 7 At the end of dinner that evening Ann Veronica began: “Father!” Her father looked at her over his glasses and spoke with grave deliberation; “If there is anything you want to say to me,” he said, “you must say it in the study. . “Miss Pellissier, isn’t it?” he said. It came with an extreme effect of re-discovery, a remarkable novelty. He gave her one of the sweaty red cans.
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