Except for one memorable school excursion to Paris, Ann Veronica had never yet been outside England. ” Miss Pellissier tried ineffectually to conceal her relief. “I supposed that he took off his hat to you. “Yes. And son of a pig,’ she grunted, baring her teeth. "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. ’ ‘Ah, that is good,’ sighed the lady. It was possible that his first impressions had not been correct. You go cheer him up. “Think of what Lady Palsworthy will say! Think of what”—So-and-so —“will say! What are we to tell people? “Besides, what am I to tell your father?” At first it had not been at all clear to Ann Veronica that she would refuse to return home; she had had some dream of a capitulation that should leave her an enlarged and defined freedom, but as her aunt put this aspect and that of her flight to her, as she wandered illogically and inconsistently from one urgent consideration to another, as she mingled assurances and aspects and emotions, it became clearer and clearer to the girl that there could be little or no change in the position of things if she returned. It was the incendiary intellectuals of the bourgeoisie, with their militant ideas of revolution, who had raised the populace to a pitch of violence resulting in cases of wholesale slaughter—such as had overtaken the Valades.
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