After dinner Ann Veronica went into the drawing-room with Miss Stanley, and her father went up to his den for his pipe and pensive petrography. I've a question to ask him. "I suspect our friend has thought better of it, and won't come," he remarked. It fell with a clatter to the floor. At last some anodyne formed itself from these exercises, and, with eyelashes wet with such feeble tears as only three-o’clock-in-the-morning pathos can distil, she fell asleep. But they were too late. The morning swims in the lagoon had thickened the red corpuscle.
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