"Your father—poor imbecile!—believes we ran away together. It warms me, and lights me, and fills my world with flowers. Ramage back his forty pounds. Ann Veronica had come down thinking of nothing in the world but her inflexible resolution to go to the dance in the teeth of all opposition. Or become a thorough-going typist and stenographer and secretarial expert. "With pleasure, Sir," replied Edgeworth Bess.
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