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The father, granite; the daughter, fire: Spurlock saw the one and heard the other, his amazement indescribable. No matter how often she came across this phase in love stories, there was never anything explanatory: as if all human beings perfectly understood. Ann Veronica was lying on her bed in a darkling room staring at the ceiling. “For Heaven’s sake, Dunster, don’t let her out of the carriage, or hansom, or whatever she came in. For whom had its sharp point been intended? Valade? Or perhaps his wife now that the girl had word of their marriage. . In the corner of the room were two hockey-sticks and a tennis-racket, and upon the walls Ann Veronica, by means of autotypes, had indicated her proclivities in art.
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