" "And you expect me to believe you after what has passed?" "I do; and, more than that, I expect you to thank me. ‘You do not like it?’ ‘That is hardly the point. Behind the poet came Sir James Thornhill. He cocked an eyebrow. Ann Veronica sat down in the other arm-chair and darned badly for a minute or so. Nobody who cared. Happen what might, he could not be in a worse position. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother.
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