“It doesn’t matter,” she said, after a long interval, “if they are absurd. “This life is killing me! Oh, it is dull, dull, dull!” Suddenly an idea seemed to strike her. 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. As the night advanced, Mr.
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