But she has let fall enough for me to understand that she knows about her father’s misdeeds. “Yes,” she said, “that is what we ought to do. Wood had been my father, as well as yours. You'd not know what to do without me, and shan't drive me off. They made a stratum into which Ann Veronica was now plunged up to her neck; it had become her stratum. I want to talk to Mr. Lucy crouched by the side of the grave, her head in her hands, rocking back and forth.
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