Part 6 When Ann Veronica reached her little bed-sitting-room again, every nerve in her body was quivering with shame and self-disgust. "Why, you don't think as how they're crimps, do you?" Ben inquired. Its heroes never had daughters, they borrowed other people’s. “But this is a surprise!” said Ramage. Beyond the steps was a pole-chair in readiness. So it does. Ann Veronica watched her face, vaguely sympathizing with her, vaguely disliking her physical insufficiency and her convulsive movements, and the fine eyebrows were knit with a faint perplexity. She thought of him as always courteous and helpful, as realizing, indeed, his ideal of protection and service, as chivalrously leaving her free to live her own life, rejoicing with an infinite generosity in every detail of her irresponsive being. Wood's displeasure; and he was the more readily induced to do this, as the conversation began to turn upon his own affairs. At the bottom of her heart she was not a bit afraid of Ramage. With a cry of distress, she dropped the pistol and flew after him, racing past him to the door.
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