She would be elemental; there would be in her somewhere the sleeping tigress. Next moment, she had shut the bookshelf panel upon him. One married as he wished and one against his wishes, and now here was Ann Veronica, his little Vee, discontented with her beautiful, safe, and sheltering home, going about with hatless friends to Socialist meetings and art-class dances, and displaying a disposition to carry her scientific ambitions to unwomanly lengths. Stanley poured wine. ’ ‘Remenham House,’ exclaimed Trodger, who had been watching this interchange open-mouthed. She admitted her pleasure to Ramage.
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