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A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being. “I’m not that beautiful. ’ ‘What, for not wanting to marry you?’ ‘Imbecile. "I'll have to set you right on that, too. “Come, daddy,” said Ann Veronica, following her husband and Miss Stanley; and in the fulness of her heart she gave a friendly squeeze to the parental arm. I do swear. She began to miss him when he was gone during the day and cherish the quiet times he spent only with her. You have friends, acquaintances, social standing, brothers and sisters, every advantage! Instead of which, you want to go to some mixed classes or other and cut up rabbits and dance about at nights in wild costumes with casual art student friends and God knows who. “Stop,” he said. ‘How disappointing,’ mourned Gerald. They had been playing tennis, with his manifest intention looming over her. “My child, I do not wish. Spurlock was basically a poet, quick to recognize beauty, animate or inanimate, and to transcribe it in unuttered words. But the love of life prevailed over his fears. The London backgrounds, in Bloomsbury and Marylebone, against which these people went to and fro, took on, by reason of their gray facades, their implacably respectable windows and window-blinds, their reiterated unmeaning iron railings, a stronger and stronger suggestion of the flavor of her father at his most obdurate phase, and of all that she felt herself fighting against.
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