The features were indistinct, but was that not a halo of white about it? And the dark shadow below, was that a cloak, or the habit of a nun? Skirting the dancing, from which he had taken a breather—not from lack of energy, but to escape the inanities of the young ladies he had partnered—Gerald made his way to a side door in the saloon and opened it. Ann Veronica found herself incompetent, undignified, and detestable, holding on desperately to a hardening antagonism to her father, quarrelling with him, wrangling with him, thinking of repartees—almost as if he was a brother. His attraction for her was now written plainly on his freckled face, revealed by the many drinks he had imbibed. “I have scarcely left his side. He forces an engagement upon her. And then the fetters, which were still upon his legs:—how was he to get rid of them? Tired and dispirited, he still wandered on. But I vowed that Ruth should never suffer the way I did—and do.
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