Then she burst into a peal of laughter. It was grated and crested with spikes, like that he had just burst open, and thinking it a needless waste of time to force it, he broke off one of the spikes, which he carried with him for further purposes, and then climbed over it. But—” The tired woman raised her eyebrows in mild protest. There was once a philanthropist who dressed with shameful shabbiness and carried pearls in his pocket. She did not open the Bible but laid it on the edge of the bed, knelt and rested her forehead upon the worn leather cover. She had very few clear memories before a particular day in the library, when they had finished one of her first reading lessons. But his gloom appeared to be occasioned by remorse, rather than sorrow. For a second time Ann Veronica wanted to swear at the universe. Some man! And to conclude it all was the figure of her father in the doorway, giving her a last chance, his hat in one hand, his umbrella in the other, shaken at her to emphasize his point.
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