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’ ‘Hélas, poor you,’ Melusine rejoined sarcastically. ” “And you?” asked David Courtlaw. Wood—and after him came his daughter. Her natural instincts reasserted themselves. “It’s odd,” said Ann Veronica, re-entering the flat. “Very likely. There's a letter for the head turnkey, Mr. ” “But how? It has only been a few days!” “She’s not even here. That's a queer yarn. But did Gerald trouble himself about her? No. He stood a little anxious and fussy, bothered by the responsibility of her, entirely careless of what her life was or was likely to be, ignoring her thoughts and feelings, ignorant of every fact of importance in her life, explaining everything he could not understand in her as nonsense and perversity, concerned only with a terror of bothers and undesirable situations.
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