“I am tired,” she said, “and I want to rest. There were dark rims under her eyes, soft now with unshed tears. "Mother—dear mother! Once again, I beseech you to listen to me. Ann Veronica sat down in the other arm-chair and darned badly for a minute or so. So, not exactly hopefully but earnestly, she returned to the feet of God. He was a little impressed by Ann Veronica’s metaphor of the string, which, indeed, she owed to Hetty Widgett.
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