Your mother, for instance, couldn’t. His father spoke for him. " "No," answered the ruffian, moodily. We were only—les autres. Girls who had envied her former position as John’s amour passed no opportunity to utter cryptic remarks as she sat in Study Hall, walked down hallways, or rinsed her hands in the bathroom. One married as he wished and one against his wishes, and now here was Ann Veronica, his little Vee, discontented with her beautiful, safe, and sheltering home, going about with hatless friends to Socialist meetings and art-class dances, and displaying a disposition to carry her scientific ambitions to unwomanly lengths. “I don’t know whether I shall go on,” said Gwen, a novel note of languorous professionalism creeping into her voice.
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