She would be extraordinarily interesting as a metaphysical study. An influence of this description appeared to be exerted on the present occasion. “Veronique!” she cried with a rising intonation, though never before had she called Ann Veronica anything but Miss Stanley, and seized her and squeezed her and kissed her with profound emotion. About her, as she had gone day by day to and from the Tredgold College, she had seen and not seen many an incidental aspect of those sides of life about which girls are expected to know nothing, aspects that were extraordinarily relevant to her own position and outlook on the world, and yet by convention ineffably remote. Stanley allowed his paper to drop a little, and scrutinized the hats and brows of their three fellow-travellers. And Mr. ‘Why do you think I want a man ready to run to me with every move she makes?’ countered Gerald.
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