She fluttered it with a trembling hand, averting her eyes from his, and he could hear her uneven breath behind it. “I say, daddy,” she began, and was suddenly short of breath. Part 2 In the late afternoon, as Ann Veronica was gathering flowers for the dinnertable, her father came strolling across the lawn toward her with an affectation of great deliberation. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. If so, do not hesitate to tell me. .
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