It reached her only slowly that Ann Veronica was standing to her resolution. She refused to accept her fate, but what is it that she could do about it? Night after night she invented alternatives. " "Where did he get it?" inquired Wood, in surprise. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. But this is not sufficient.
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