Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. She exhaled, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders and arms. ‘Parbleu, I hope that I do not have many more times to come in this way to the house,’ she muttered fretfully. It is that you cannot refuse her sanctuary. Permit me to introduce myself. And yet the moment I am safely out of the way you are content to dress yourself in my rags, to go and get yourself popular and admired and successful, all on my reputation. Capes was married,” said Ann Veronica, resuming the conversation with an entire disappearance of her former lassitude.
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