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Part 9 The realization that she was in love flooded Ann Veronica’s mind, and altered the quality of all its topics. . She tried for her usual confident tone, but only succeeded in sounding gruff, even to her own ears. And mind, your life,—more than your life—hangs upon your choice. A fire enveloped her, a fire which was strangely healing, filling her heart with warmth, blotting out the menace of the world. Everything, my dear, everything!. ’ It took several frustrating moments, working at the protrusions of the carving down the side of the bookshelves, tugging at leaves, pushing at flowers. It was an excuse, dredged up on the spur of the moment to cover a slip. Finally she decided that even for an hotel she must look round, and that meanwhile she would “book” her luggage at Waterloo. "Help!—murder!—thieves!" screamed Mrs. Gods! what it must be to pour out strong, splendid verse—mighty lines! mighty lines! If I do, Ann Veronica, it will be you. He flew to the window, and would have passed his sword through the thief-taker's body, if the latter had not quickly interposed the person of Mrs. Idiote. She turned to Martha as the lad exited by the back door, but her nurse forestalled anything she might have said.
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