She felt a lump rise in her throat, for she had come to love living in America. A victim of one of those mental typhoons that scatter irretrievably the barriers of instinct and breeding; and he had gone on the rocks all in a moment. Carefully abstaining from thrusting against each other, Ann Veronica and her father began an absurdly desperate struggle, the one to open the door, the other to keep it fastened. But pathologically, he is still on the edge. ’ Which effectually silenced her. ‘The man’s gone,’ her old nurse told her, when she had recovered a little. “I admired your sister in Paris,” he answered, “but I do not believe that I regard her now as altogether the same person.
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