In the midst of this light stood a young woman. “Now look here, Veronica, let us be plain with each other. “You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. She gave me an impression of a sort of patched quilt; little bits of patterned stuff coming up again and again. ” Like most men who lie but seldom, he lied well.
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