Ann Veronica’s experiences of men had been among more stable types—Teddy, who was always absurd; her father, who was always authoritative and sentimental; Manning, who was always Manning. "Despatch him!" roared Jonathan. “Listen, Annabel,” he said hoarsely. A young man, who had been spending the last hour walking up and down on the opposite side of the way, came quickly over to her. Most of the vessels lying in the river were driven from their moorings, dashed tumultuously against each other, or blown ashore.
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