But ere the words could find utterance, her maternal tenderness overcame her indignation; and, sinking upon her knees, she extended her arms over her child. “We are, or rather we were, so much alike then that the portrait of either of us would have done for the other. She appeared not to have realised the implications of her outburst, but clung a little to Gerald’s hands which had taken hers in a comforting clasp. The Ragged Edge. ‘Now you see why it is I no longer require the proof of which I have spoken. A brief calm succeeded. ” “It was exceedingly wrong of you,” Anna declared. The hard work will be his, until we yank this young fellow back from the brink. “I don’t care,” said Ann Veronica. She was alone with a deadly enemy. .
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