Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. “Are you sorry you waited, aunt?” she said. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. “No!” “Don’t try and stop me. Part 4 At eight that evening Miss Stanley tapped at Ann Veronica’s bedroom door. Most of their relics are in yonder cases; but I don't remember that any of them have disturbed my rest.
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