"If that sickly brat lives to be a man," continued Jonathan, rising, "I'll hang him upon the same tree as his father. ” Annabel looked intently into her glass. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. ’ ‘For shame, Hilary,’ admonished his fiancée, casting a pitying glance at the refugees. If Ann Veronica could have put words to that song they would have been, “Hot-blooded marriage or none!” but she was far too indistinct in this matter to frame any words at all.
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