You will have a bungalow to yourself," continued McClintock, "and your morning meal will be your own affair. ” Ann Veronica made no answer. She hung about his chair, followed him to the door, touched his sleeve timidly, all the while striving to pronounce the words which refused to rise to her tongue. As they kissed goodbye, she hoped that he felt the same reluctance to part. . "My father!" she whispered. There was no one at all in this room, but through the half-open door of one of the small apartments that gave upon it she had a glimpse of two very young girls sitting at a littered table and writing briskly. At last he could bear it no longer. For freedom at least.
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