Part 2 In the late afternoon, as Ann Veronica was gathering flowers for the dinnertable, her father came strolling across the lawn toward her with an affectation of great deliberation. I am sure that he can be got rid of. God bless you, Auntie! I'll go into the mills and make pulp with my bare hands, if you want me to. But at the beginning of the affray, when he thought every one was too much occupied with his own concerns to remark his absence, he slipped out of the room, not for the purpose of avoiding the engagement (for cowardice was not one of his failings), but because he had another object in view. Looked all over that dratted convent of yours—or at least Trodger and the men did so—but no sign of them. Each one had been different from the others, each had had a quality all its own, a distinctive freshness, a distinctive beauty. I cannot answer that question. Let us stay the night here. She fought him at first, screaming at him, but he did not relent.
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