He looked about for his hat, and put it on. Girls erupted in waves of whispering as soon as she passed them by. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. “Are you speaking to me?” she asked calmly. "Set your prisoner free!" returned Wood. Ann Veronica felt suddenly an effect of tremendous pathos; she would have given anything to have been able to frame and make some appeal, some utterance that should bridge this bottomless chasm that had opened between her and her father, and she could find nothing whatever to say that was in the least sincere and appealing.
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