It wound around a small manufactured lake. He had not proceeded far when he was alarmed by the tramp of a horse, which seemed to be rapidly approaching, and he had scarcely time to leap the hedge and conceal himself behind a tree, when a tall man, enveloped in an ample cloak, with his hat pulled over his brows, rode by at full speed. “Isn’t the question more complicated than that?” said Ann Veronica. One’s got to be a better man than one’s father, or what is the good of successive generations? Life is rebellion, or nothing.
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