“Oh, Veronica!” she said, “to leave your home!” She had been weeping. “Veronique!” she cried with a rising intonation, though never before had she called Ann Veronica anything but Miss Stanley, and seized her and squeezed her and kissed her with profound emotion. We married, and for a time we were happy. Your life is like a funeral March. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. " "First, let me introduce my friends," returned Jack, stepping to the door.
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