Ann Veronica listened thoughtfully, with her eyes on the turf, and now and then she asked a question or looked up to discuss a point. She did most urgently desire to save her face in Morningside Park, and for long hours she could think of no way of putting it that would not be in the nature of unconditional admission of defeat. It still failed in something. Leaning upon a gate he looked down into the valley. He tried not to think—of Ruth with her mother's locket, of her misguided father, taking his lonely way to sea.
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