. He touched a long-standing sore, and Ann Veronica found herself vainly trying to explain—the inexplicable. Woman's love of silk is not set by fashion; it is bred in the bone; and somewhere, somehow, a woman will have her bit of silk. You’ll end there one day, mark my words. . “But my dear Ann Veronica, you will be getting into debt!” Ann Veronica at once, and with a feeling of immense relief, took refuge in her dignity. Close behind him stood the tall gaunt figure of Marvel, with his large bony hands, his scraggy neck, and ill-favoured countenance. “Are you sick, Michelle? Maybe you should have stayed home.
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