. "Not exactly," answered Jonathan, drily. ’ ‘Damnation!’ ‘What the devil ails you?’ demanded his friend, striding forward. Ann Veronica was carried off her intellectual and critical feet by it altogether, and applauded and uttered cries that subsequent reflection failed to endorse. He was leaning against a window frame, his hat in his hand. He came in with his hands in his trousers pockets and a general air of depression in his bearing. “You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately.
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