‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. ” “Yes, but men;” said Ann Veronica, plunging; “don’t you want the love of men?” For some seconds they remained silent, both shocked by this question. Occasionally the mere fact of lying in bed became unendurable, and she rolled out and marched about her room and whispered abuse of herself—usually until she hit against some article of furniture. "That's your hunting ground," said the doctor. " "What's that?" asked Wood with some curiosity. He was no Hoddy, but a tremendous man, with hairy arms and bearded face and drink-shattered intellect.
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