She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. She receded into the entryway, opening her palm and gesturing as if there were an imaginary red carpet rolled out for visitors. On that night,—that fatal night,—Winifred crushed all the hopes that were rising in my heart. "It would avail him little if he did," replied Kneebone. Her eye met Miss Stanley’s understandingly, and she was if anything a trifle more affectionate in her greeting to Ann Veronica.
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