Miss Stanley, it was manifest, had given him Ann Veronica’s address. He drew a little sigh of relief. That had taken her by surprise, and her tired wits had failed her. No one had lived here since old man Remenham had died some eighteen months ago, for the heir, so it was rumoured, was a relative with property of his own. ” A fair-haired young Englishman looked up from the depths of his easy chair. ” “I want a vote,” said Ann Veronica. \"You cannot know how frustrated I have become. ” He started back as though he had been shot. gutenberg. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. Her natural instincts reasserted themselves.
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