“I shall never marry,” said Ann Veronica, resolutely; “I’m not the sort. She took his hand in hers. . Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. Seeing John in Chemistry was the worst. On a high chair behind a raised counter the stipendiary’s substitute regarded her malevolently over his glasses.
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