Part 2 In the late afternoon, as Ann Veronica was gathering flowers for the dinnertable, her father came strolling across the lawn toward her with an affectation of great deliberation. ‘And so you sneak back,’ she threw at him, ‘like the jackal that you are. Myn Got! haanging runs in some families, Muntmeester. ” “It is my wish to be alone,” she said wearily. Her father’s step quickened to a trot.
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