She had one idea, she found, very clear in her mind—that she would get a Research Scholarship, and so contrive another year in the laboratory. The poor wretch, driven by desperation to the commission of a crime which her soul abhors, is no more beyond the hope of reformation than she is without the pale of mercy. “Have you dropped from the skies?” Sydney asked wonderingly. Ann Veronica’s desire to laugh unrestrainedly was checked by the tremendous earnestness of his expression. If it were but the question of his reason for marrying her, the solution would have been simple. "Come, then," said Wild, marching towards the door, "we've no time to lose.
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