Ann Veronica’s universe, which had never been altogether so respectful to her as she could have wished, gave a shout and whirled head over heels. That a longing of hers should be realized in this strange fashion was difficult to believe: it vaguely suggested something of a trap. The marriage lines that confirmed a union between the said André Valade and Mademoiselle Melusine Charvill touched the old scars and he gave vent to a muttered expletive. ‘But lay him down. "See the devil!—not I," cried Wood impatiently. So far she had the utmost difficulty in getting on to that vitally important matter. If such a thing in connexion with him had been possible they would have declared that he was in a towering rage. Carefully abstaining from thrusting against each other, Ann Veronica and her father began an absurdly desperate struggle, the one to open the door, the other to keep it fastened. What little happiness I had I was forced to steal.
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