” And thus it was that as Ann Veronica neared the gates of home, she said to herself: “I’ll have it out with him somehow. Brendon,” she said, “if I could ask for advice, or borrow money from any one, I would from you—there! But I cannot. But no more of that. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation.
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