" "Stand off, Sir!" exclaimed Trenchard, starting suddenly backwards. Abruptly she desisted, recoiled, and turned and fled up-stairs. But if you do not leave this room I must. \"I guess so. Ann Veronica was lying on her bed in a darkling room staring at the ceiling. "We were talking shop," said McClintock, rising. " "I feel it," replied Jack, in a tone of agony, "and I feel it more on my poor mother's account than my own. Great vistas of history opened, and she and her aunt were near reverting to the primitive and passionate and entirely indecorous arboreal—were swinging from branches by the arms, and really going on quite dreadfully—when their arrival at the Palsworthys’ happily checked this play of fancy, and brought Ann Veronica back to the exigencies of the wrappered life again.
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