” Ann Veronica was about to reply, when he went on, with a still more deadly quiet: “I am not here to bandy words with you. He must know she’ll be at a convent. Shortly afterwards,—it seemed an age to the anxious mother,—Mr. Supper was quickly served; the oldest bottle of wine was brought from the cellar; the strongest barrel of ale was tapped; but not one of the party could eat or drink—their hearts were too full. Still, one has to be reasonable. “Until you marry, Vee,” said Hetty.
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