She lingered over donning her winter coat, buttoning each toggle and placket, double knotting her long scarf. “What have I been all this time?” she asked herself, and answered, “Just stark egotism, crude assertion of Ann Veronica, without a modest rag of religion or discipline or respect for authority to cover me!” It seemed to her as though she had at last found the touchstone of conduct. " "Zounds!" exclaimed Quilt, "did you kill him?" "Not quite," replied Terence, laughing; "but I brought him to his senses. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. People are afraid of her that no one has ever dared to make fun of her. Pure luck! If the boy had grown a moustache or a beard, a needle in the haystack would have been soft work.
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